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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507310">All Over Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilsDown/pseuds/PencilsDown'>PencilsDown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anomaly (The 100 (TV)), Aunts &amp; Uncles, Dysfunctional Family, Everyone Interacts Because It Takes A Village, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fatherhood, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Love, M/M, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Other, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Romance, The 100 (TV) Season 7, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 03:35:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>90,097</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilsDown/pseuds/PencilsDown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Madi didn’t glow yellow. Madi didn’t leave a light behind. Madi had disappeared into the green fog of the Anomaly – no trace of her remaining."</p><p>The Anomaly stones wield more power than the human race had been able to access, and those who chose to reject transcendence have yet another choice to make.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abby Griffin &amp; Eric Jackson, Abby Griffin &amp; Raven Reyes, Bellamy Blake &amp; Echo, Bellamy Blake &amp; Octavia Blake, Bellamy Blake &amp; Raven Reyes, Cillian/Clarke Griffin, Clarke Griffin &amp; Emori, Clarke Griffin &amp; Eric Jackson, Clarke Griffin &amp; Jake Griffin, Clarke Griffin &amp; John Murphy, Clarke Griffin &amp; Lexa, Clarke Griffin &amp; Madi, Clarke Griffin &amp; Niylah, Clarke Griffin &amp; Raven Reyes, Echo &amp; Clarke Griffin, Echo &amp; Emori (the 100), Echo &amp; Raven Reyes, Emori &amp; John Murphy (The 100), Emori &amp; Raven Reyes, Emori/Niylah (The 100), Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller, Gaia &amp; Indra (The 100), Hope Diyoza &amp; Jordan Jasper Green, John Murphy &amp; Charles Pike, John Murphy &amp; Raven Reyes, Octavia Blake &amp; Lincoln, Octavia Blake &amp; Marcus Kane, Octavia Blake/Levitt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Answers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Some slight but significant changes made to 7x16, the Anomaly's capabilities, and the involvement of the alien species.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“I need to be with Madi; there’s not much time.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Clarke, wait…”</em>
</p><p>Whatever Raven wanted to say wasn’t something Clarke had time to hear as she rounded the corner and tore off down the hallway in her quest to spend what little time humanity had left with her daughter.</p><p>The blonde could at least make sure they would spend their last moments together. Madi would forever be crystallized in her mother’s arms.</p><p>Clarke finally slammed her palm into the button to activate the door and jumped the few steps that stood between her and Madi – her daughter as still and lifeless as when she’d left her. The sight alone silenced any lingering regrets the mother may have had. <em>Wanheda </em>would kill Cadogan all over again for doing this to her child. Test for all of humanity be damned. <em>Fuck it</em>.</p><p>She couldn’t stop the small smile of relief that spread across her face to see that her daughter hadn’t been removed or otherwise further harmed. <em>“Hi baby, I’m here,” </em>she let out breathlessly as she cradled Madi’s face in her hands.</p><p>That relief didn’t last long as the gravity of their situation settled in, and Clarke could hear the rueful cry in her own voice, <em>“I’m so sorry I failed you. I failed everyone.” </em>She’d failed her child. She’d failed her friends. She’d failed all of humanity. To say Clarke had made mistakes before was an understatement, but she’d never felt the weight of actually dooming an entire race to extinction.</p><p><em>Too little, too late</em> she thought. All that mattered now was being with Madi.</p><p>Clarke’s tears continued as she laid her head on the child’s chest, her arms snaking around the girl as she listened to the still-steady beating of her daughter’s heart one last time. It calmed her just enough as she proceeded to lift Madi’s upper body into her arms and carefully drag the girl out of the chair, letting the child’s legs fall to the floor and drag along with them until Clarke was able to get herself seated with Madi laid across her lap.</p><p>Madi’s arm flopped hopelessly to the side as Clarke cradled the girl’s neck, her other hand stroking soothingly across the child’s stomach. She whispered all of her apologies and reassurances of love down at Madi’s face as every hope and dream she’d had for her daughter ran through her mind in one last act of betrayal by her own brain.</p><p>Now all they could do was wait. Clarke didn’t know how long it would be now, so she just started repeating <em>“I love you” </em>to Madi over and over again to ensure they’d be the last words the girl would ever hear. The blonde couldn’t help but to picture how quickly Diyoza’s body had crystallized once the chemical had been unleashed.</p><p>
  <em>Was it supposed to take this long?</em>
</p><p>Clarke had been contemplating setting Madi down to check the hallway for signs of any activity when her arms suddenly felt as empty and weightless as they had when Madi originally disappeared off to Bardo. She looked down in a panic to see that her daughter was again materializing into an all-too-familiar green mist. The mother could only watch helplessly as the mist seemed to pass right through her, disappearing completely in the process.</p><p>Madi was gone yet she was still here. No. <em>No.</em> This shouldn’t be happening. This <em>can’t </em>be happening.</p><p>Clarke heaved out a strangled breath as she launched to her feet and slammed the button to open the door, staggering out into the still-empty hallway. She could hear her own quiet sobs for a second before her jog turned into a full-on sprint. The rapid thrum of her pulse pounded louder and louder in her ears with each empty hallway she raced through.</p><p>She could feel cold tears creeping into both of her ear canals as she willed her body to go faster in her desperation to get outside. To find Madi. To find <em>anyone. </em>She pounded a fist into the button of the last door that stood between her and the fake outdoors, the brighter lighting of the dome causing her to shield her eyes after having been in the dimly lit hallways.</p><p>What she found when she lowered her arm made her want to shield her eyes for a different reason.</p><p>
  <em>This can’t be possible.</em>
</p><p>Clarke found herself standing amongst a field full of shimmering gold lights. Individual lights all eerily shaped like beings raising their arms towards the sky.</p><p>
  <em>A war to become the light.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>Clarke spun around hopelessly as she saw nothing but light, calling out for Madi – for anyone – to answer her.</p><p>
  <em>Madi.</em>
</p><p>Madi didn’t glow yellow. Madi didn’t leave a light behind. Madi had disappeared into the green fog of the Anomaly – no trace of her remaining. She had to find Madi, and she knew she wouldn’t be on this planet if the Anomaly had taken her.</p><p>For what felt like the millionth time today, Clarke broke out into a sprint back into the building, down the long corridors, and straight to Bardo’s stone room.</p><p>-</p><p>Clarke had checked Nakara first, opting to get the frigid coffin of a planet out of the way in case her daughter had wound up there in the cold. She skipped Etherea, remembering with a startling sadness the state Bellamy was in after his return from the mysterious planet. She also skipped Beta in fear of the time dilation causing irreparable damage to the timeline she needed to maintain.</p><p>Next was Sanctum. The planet she had been so desperately hoping to not have to return to. She let her determination to find Madi take over her entire being as she arrived in Sanctum’s stone room, not bothering to take off her helmet until she was clear of the space and the bodies that still littered the floor. <em>Have to find Madi, have to find Madi</em>, becoming a mantra in her head.</p><p>Clarke finally took her helmet off when she was greeted with the familiar sight of what had once been Sanctum’s quad. Her face scrunched in obvious disappointment when she was met with more shimmering lights – worry growing each second with the lack of response to her calls of Madi’s name.</p><p>When she finally did get a response, it was in the form of claws clacking against the pavement as Picasso made her way towards the unsuspecting blonde. It wasn’t what Clarke had been hoping for, but her face lit up at the sight anyway as she briefly knelt to rub under the dog’s floppy ears. She felt her shoulders relax a little as she stood back up, all hope of finding her daughter reignited in full force with the dog’s presence. She knew Madi would be absolutely ecstatic to see Picasso, so now they’d be a team of two in their search for the girl.</p><p>She signaled for the dog to follow her as Clarke donned her helmet once more and made her way back to the castle. She pulled up the planet options before entering to help obscure the view of what lay on the floor of the stone room as she made her next selection: Earth.</p><p>-</p><p>When Clarke arrived back in the Second Dawn bunker, she released her hold on Picasso’s collar and removed her helmet one last time before setting it to the side. She knew that she had to find Madi here. She couldn’t be anywhere else, and the mother refused to entertain the only other remaining possibility. There was absolutely no way she’d accept her child being gone. Not after what she’d witnessed.</p><p>Pushing back the thoughts of what last happened here in the pit, Clarke wound her way up the ramp and towards the exit that lead to a plush green forest, Picasso behind her every step of the way. Every step of the way, that is, until they reached said exit and the dog took off. <em>Shit.</em></p><p>She called out desperately for the animal, pushing past branches and stepping over roots as she tried not to lose sight of the direction in which the dog had headed. Clarke felt fear creep up her spine when she realized she could no longer hear Picasso’s quick trots. The only thing keeping her from spiraling into a panic was the thought that wherever Picasso had taken off to would lead to Madi.</p><p>
  <em>Yes! Picasso must have taken off because she sensed Madi!</em>
</p><p>Clarke doubled her speed until she reached a clearing that housed a beach. An <em>empty </em>beach, to her horror. She didn’t bother calling for the dog this time as she screamed, “MADI!”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“MADI, ANSWER ME!” The sense of déjà vu that hit her in the chest finally lead to her giving in to her panic. Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper, “You can’t be gone. I don’t want to be alone. <em>Please.</em> I don’t want to lose you,” her chest heaved as she felt the first sob escape.</p><p>Then her world turned on its axis yet again as she heard a voice behind her. A voice she’d know anywhere, no matter how much time had passed.</p><p>“You’re not alone, Clarke,” Lexa’s form said as the blonde turned to face the other woman. Clarke wasn’t in the mood for any more games or tests, “Where is she?” It came out as more of a demand than a question.</p><p>Lexa’s form glanced behind Clarke, causing Clarke to turn yet again to follow the woman’s gaze. She gasped as she was greeted by the sight of her friends – Jordan, Hope, Niylah, Echo, Emori, Murphy, Octavia, Levitt, Jackson, Miller, Gaia, and even Indra – all gathered several yards behind her making a camp for themselves at the far end of the beach. Her eyes then drifted to Raven who was down on one knee petting Picasso, laughing as the dog licked her face repeatedly.</p><p>Clarke couldn’t believe it. The grin she wore felt like it could split her face in two. They had been but golden lights not even an hour ago, yet here they all were wearing new clothes and easy smiles. All but one. And just like that, her face twisted into something fierce and commanding as she whirled back around to Lexa’s form.</p><p>The brunette simply held up a slender hand in Clarke’s direction, the familiar act stunning the blonde into silence. This allowed the brunette a chance to take control of the conversation. "Madi’s whereabouts will be addressed, of that I can assure you, but there are a few things that must be made known to all of you first.”</p><p>Clarke watched as <em>Lexa’s</em> hand returned to its position, joining her other hand once again behind her back. The blonde had to shake her head slightly to snap herself out of it. “What <em>things</em>?” Again, it was more of a demand than a question.</p><p>Lexa’s form simply strolled confidently past her and over to where the group of friends had yet to notice Clarke’s arrival. The brunette’s growing proximity to the group pulled Raven’s attention away from Picasso as the mechanic jumped to her feet and yelled to Clarke in her excitement. Raven’s sudden call drew everyone else’s attention away from their tasks and to the quickly approaching form of Clarke.</p><p>Raven was the first to reach the blonde, pulling her into a crushing embrace as she turned her face in towards Clarke’s hair, relishing the feeling of hugging her friend again. Octavia followed suit, which lead to a chain of hugs from the whole gang. Despite Clarke’s relief at seeing her friends, the line of embraces almost felt endless with the nagging anxiety of the unanswered question weighing on her.</p><p>When she was finally released from the last embrace, she registered the sound of a gasp and turned to find her friends all gaping at Lexa’s form. Clarke felt her mouth open as she went to launch into an explanation, but she was cut off by a cry from Echo. “<em>Bellamy?!”</em></p><p>Clarke felt her head snap in every which direction as she frantically searched for sight of her departed best friend. She looked back to Echo only to see her warily approaching the form of <em>Lexa</em>.</p><p>
  <em>“We most often take the form of the subject’s greatest teacher, or the source of their greatest failure. In a rare, emotion-driven species such as your own, it can be their greatest love.”</em>
</p><p>Clarke remembered hearing the words in the back of her mind before <em>Lexa’s</em> form had appeared to her during the test. She was the only one seeing <em>Lexa</em>. Everyone else saw their own past standing before them.</p><p>Octavia saw <em>Lincoln</em>, Levitt saw <em>Cadogan</em>, Emori saw her <em>brother</em>, Gaia saw her former <em>Seda</em>, Indra saw her <em>mother</em>, Hope saw <em>Diyoza</em>, Jordan saw <em>Monty</em>, Raven saw <em>Abby</em> again, Niylah saw her <em>father</em>, Miller saw his own, Jackson saw <em>Abby</em>, and Murphy, to his utter surprise, saw <em>Pike</em>.</p><p>
  <em>“This is graduation." Murphy felt Pike’s eyes on him. “Congratulations. Class dismissed.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p>Regardless of who they saw, the being held each individual’s attention, and they all heard the same words rain over them. “As most of you know, transcendence is a choice. The rest of the human race, aside from who you see here, has opted to remain part of my species’ collective consciousness. Something that has turned out to be an excellent addition, much to our surprise. You all chose to return to your human forms, some of which had to be restored after the test concluded.”</p><p>Echo and Levitt briefly caught each other’s eyes as Murphy looked to Emori before the being continued, “With your return comes the inability to produce offspring. There won’t be new generations of humans in 100 years or a legacy to pass down for generations to come. However, you have yet another choice to make." The being pauses in their explanation to scan the faces before it.</p><p>Clarke’s harsh tone breaks the silence as she watches <em>Lexa </em>scan the group. “What choice?”</p><p>The being’s eyes meet hers before moving about the group again. “When the rest of humanity joined our collective consciousness, we learned of the reproductive process that was used on the planet you call Bardo." The being’s eyes landed on Levitt as his face paled.</p><p><em>Cadogan’s </em>eyes remained on Levitt as he spoke. “When the code was discovered, there was an order given to release a toxin into the tanks of the embryos, killing each one instantly. Three of the tanks containing male embryos were cut from the mainframe instead, meaning they never received the fatal toxin.”</p><p>Levitt found his voice as his eyes locked on that of his former mentor. “Being cut from the mainframe instantly puts the tanks on life support,” he finishes with a note of suspicion before <em>Cadogan’s </em>voice takes over again.</p><p>“That is correct. The life support setting no longer allows for genetic modification of the embryo; it simply keeps the embryo alive for the remainder of its gestation. Given that the embryo can no longer receive genetic modification to repair any flaws, the embryo is also rendered sterile during the life support phase – ensuring that whatever genetic flaws its DNA may now carry cannot be passed on to future generations.”</p><p>It’s Jackson who interrupts the being this time. “That’s why you’re telling us this – because the embryos are sterile, so the human race can’t possibly continue even with their birth." He eyes <em>Abby </em>with betrayal written on his face.</p><p><em>Abby</em> gives him a single nod as she answers. “Correct. The embryos could not transcend as they are not yet developed enough to have formed a consciousness. They would have nothing to add to the collective. Since there are three sterile embryos remaining, we’ve decided to give you a choice regarding their fate.”</p><p>“Are you ever going to spell out what the hell this choice is, or are we going to keep going in circles here?” Murphy feels Emori’s hand slap his upper arm as a few pairs of eyes shoot towards him at his words. All he sees now is <em>Pike</em> settling his gaze on him.</p><p><em>Pike</em> wears an unsettling smile. “All in good time, John Murphy. The choice, as you’ve so hastily requested, is what shall become of the three embryos. You can choose to end their time on life support, therefore ending their existence, or you can allow them to reach full gestation and have the chance to raise what would then become the very last generation of the human race as your own.”</p><p>The being expects to hear a chorus of voices coming from the group but is surprised once again when it’s met with a heavy silence instead. “I should include that the life support setting is designed to only remain active for 24-hours if it doesn’t receive prompting from an operator once in effect. You have approximately 21-hours remaining before the choice is made for you.”</p><p>Clarke manages to find her voice again, hearing it come out in a croak with her first few words. “You said the three embryos are all male. What about Madi? Where is my daughter?” She finishes with a sharp look aimed at <em>Lexa</em>, tears pooling dangerously in her bottom lids.</p><p><em>Lexa </em>trains her eyes on Clarke, an eerie calm behind the brunette’s gaze. “Madi has been returned to her own time,” she replies, as if the answer should’ve been obvious.</p><p>Clarke openly gapes at the being before she hears Raven’s threatening voice. “What do you mean she’s <em>returned to her own time</em>? What the hell does that even <em>mean</em>?”</p><p><em>Lexa</em> has the nerve to sigh disappointedly, as if this interaction is somehow inconveniencing her, and Clarke feels herself seethe at the sight.</p><p>“Human beings, although having discovered how to use the stones to travel amongst planets, did not have full access to the stones’ capabilities. There are things the stones can do that only my species alone can control.”</p><p>Octavia, finally working past the shock of seeing <em>Lincoln</em> again, asks, “What kind of things?”</p><p><em>Lincoln</em> looks her way in acknowledgement before his gaze settles on a nearby tree behind the group. “We cannot bring back the dead or duplicate someone who already exists, but we had managed to strategically place living creatures amongst humans before – their interference serving as a small guide to mankind. We’ve been keeping an eye on humanity since the last species to take the test failed. You are a very curious species, after all.”</p><p>“What kind of creatures?” Clarke’s growing curiosity outweighs her growing irritation, her tone full of interest instead of venom.</p><p>“Animals, mostly. Animals humans would recognize. Although we often struggled to replicate the animal’s original size or exact form. Many appeared larger than intended or with other mutations due to the radiation that plagued Earth. Once there was what you call a dog,” the being nodded towards Picasso, “but it could be anything. Even something as simple as a bird…like a vulture,” <em>Lexa </em>finishes with a pointed look towards the blonde.</p><p>Clarke stumbles backwards like she’s been slapped as she sputters. “You – you’re telling me that that vulture in the desert – the one who lead me to the valley – was <em>your </em>doing?”</p><p>“That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Clarke. You were too delirious at the time to notice the telltale green that accompanies a flash, so you never questioned the bird’s sudden appearance,” <em>Lexa</em> answers, still as calm as ever.</p><p>The brunette once again uses the blonde’s stunned silence as an opportunity to continue her explanation. “When we saw that the fate of the human race was possibly at stake once again with the impending threat of what you called Praimfaya, we decided to interfere in a way that we never had before. We weren’t even sure it would work, but we decided we had to intervene somehow, no matter how small it seemed in the grand scheme of things.”</p><p>“As I said, we can’t bring back the dead or duplicate an existing being, but we could sense certain events from the future. We used that sense and the stones to send something – <em>someone </em>– fabricated from the future we knew would one day come to pass. We were able to do this with access to both parts of the person’s DNA - ”</p><p>Jackson interrupted in a loud, unbelieving whisper. “You used DNA from the parents…”</p><p><em>Abby </em>shot a smile his way that didn’t reach her eyes. “Correct again, Dr. Jackson. We knew the flash from the stone would spread across the entire area due to the magnitude of the stone’s efforts, so we decided to conceal the green flash the only way we could think to - ”</p><p>It was Raven who cut Abby off this time. “You mixed it in with Praimfaya itself. That’s why there were hints of green in the wall of orange on my monitors,” she said in an incredulous voice.</p><p>“We timed the flash to coincide with Praimfaya. Although the fires of Praimfaya itself threatened the very life of whom we sent, so we had to choose an area for the initial impact of the flash – an area that would be untouched by the destruction of the fire as a result of the flash's impact.”</p><p>“Shallow Valley,” Clarke whispered as the tears from earlier had finally made their way down her paling cheeks. The blonde looked as if she were ready to pass out at any moment when <em>Lexa</em> moved towards her, guiding her to a nearby rock and easing her down onto it.</p><p>The brunette’s voice was softer when she addressed the blonde. “Yes, Clarke. Shallow Valley. We sent Madi to Shallow Valley, knowing that you would eventually end up there.”</p><p>Raven, Octavia, Murphy, and Indra had all moved to surround Clarke protectively when they saw the being lower her onto the rock. Clarke could feel what she knew to be Raven’s hand squeeze her shoulder as she tried to calm her thoughts enough to form a response.</p><p>
  <em>This couldn’t be possible.</em>
</p><p>Clarke’s head violently shook from side-to-side. “No, no that can’t be. Madi had parents and a life and skills she’d learned long before she ever met me…”</p><p>“How often did she speak of her family, Clarke? What memories did she share with you?” <em>Lexa</em> interrupted Clarke’s rambling to try a new approach.</p><p>Clarke’s head still shook along with her voice. “She – she was so little, so young, that she couldn’t describe them very well. We didn’t talk about it much because I never wanted to upset her, but I made sure she knew that she could talk about it if she wanted to,” Clarke finished defensively.</p><p><em>Lexa </em>continued to use an impossibly soft tone. “I’m sure she did know that Clarke, but Madi couldn’t speak of things she never truly knew. We had carefully planned her age – just old enough to be able to impart necessary survival skills like fishing and hunting – but young enough to use her youth as a cover for gaps in her memory. We could only impart so much into a child at that stage of development, so she had very few memories of the life we concocted for her. She only knew what she needed to know to go unquestioned until the time came.”</p><p>Octavia inched even closer towards Clarke to pin <em>Lincoln’s</em> imposing form under her gaze. “And what time would that be, exactly?”</p><p><em>Lincoln’s </em>eyes tore away from Clarke’s face to land on hers, his tone once again carrying the harsh edge it had before. “Time for her to exist for real. To actually be born and grow the way she was originally intended to.”</p><p>Raven had tightened her grip on Clarke’s shoulder, her eyes studying <em>Abby</em> suspiciously before she spoke. “Born to who? Who are her parents? And what about her life before? I mean are we all just supposed to forget her previous existence? Will we be forced to ignore everything that happened because, to her, it never really did?”</p><p><em>Abby</em> flashed her eyes towards Raven to acknowledge what was said, but Raven watched as her gaze settled back down on Clarke as she answered. “By the time you met Madi, she was six years and seven days old. When Madi grows to reach that same age, her memories of her time before will begin to return. Her <em>real </em>memories – the ones that actually occurred, not the ones we imparted.”</p><p>Clarke lifted her head to fix watery blue eyes on <em>Lexa</em> again as the being continued in a softer tone. "The memories could be triggered by certain words, sights, or even sounds, but most of them will likely come to her in dreams. Rest assured, her dreams will still be her own, but the memories of her time before – her time with you – will return to her as she grows. Imparting all of the memories of her former time here at once would be detrimental to her brain’s development, so it will be safer this way.”</p><p>Whatever Clarke opens her mouth to say is cut off by Raven’s demanding voice. “You deliberately ignored my first question. <em>Who </em>are Madi’s parents? Her <em>real </em>parents,” Raven emphasizes with a glare at <em>Abby</em>.</p><p><em>Abby</em> fixes a glare right back at the mechanic. “We knew that a human’s mental state could not survive five years of isolation and still achieve what Clarke needed to do for your species. We couldn’t send a random child to save Clarke after we sensed it would be possible to send her own to do the job.”</p><p>Raven didn’t have the chance to interrupt Clarke this time as the blonde shot to her feet, breaking away from the firm grip the mechanic had on her shoulder.</p><p>Clarke stood so quickly that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to remain upright, but that was overshadowed by her disbelief and loud protests. “<em>No. </em>You’re wrong. That’s not even <em>possible</em>,” Clarke finished vehemently as she looked at <em>Lexa</em>, her eyes begging the woman before her to just <em>stop</em>.</p><p><em>Lexa’s </em>voice had a calm edge to it as Clarke watched her turn to address Jackson. “Dr. Jackson, I’m assuming you’re familiar with the human reproductive system?”</p><p>Jackson eyes <em>Abby</em>, offense clear on his face, as he nods tightly.</p><p>“And does conception always happen immediately after two humans engage in sexual relations,” <em>Abby</em> asks him, her expression making it clear that she already knows the answer, but she needs for him to be the one to voice it aloud.</p><p>His voice is steady as he acquiesces. “No. Conception can take several days after <em>relations</em> have occurred,” the mockery in Jackson’s voice is meant for <em>Abby</em>, but he softens as he realizes Clarke’s eyes are scanning his face in desperation. “It can take almost a week for fertilization to occur, and even a few more days after that for the fertilized egg to attach itself in the uterine lining.”</p><p>Clarke draws in a ragged breath as she slowly starts to lower herself back onto the rock, feeling like she actually will pass out if she tries to remain on her feet any longer. She feels two hands hold to either side of her to help ease her down. Once seated and feeling the world spin just a little less around her, Clarke brings her attention back to <em>Lexa </em>just in time to hear the brunette’s ensuing questions.</p><p>“So, Dr. Jackson, let’s say a woman has sexual relations with a man and then her body endures numerous traumas over the next three or four days following said relations,” <em>Lexa’s </em>gaze is boring into Clarke’s intensely as she speaks, “Her heart even stopping for a minute or two, but her brain and other vital organs remaining undamaged upon revival. Would fertilization still be possible? Would a fertilized egg still be viable?”</p><p>Jackson sees <em>Abby’s </em>eyes on Clarke through his peripheral vision, but his own gaze is set on the blonde several feet from him as he whispers his answer just loud enough to be heard. “Yes. That is entirely possible.”</p><p>“Thank you, Dr. Jackson,” <em>Lexa</em> offers in a smug tone before crouching down in front of Clarke. “Now, Clarke, did an event occur to make it possible for you to conceive?”</p><p>Clarke is staring daggers at the being before her. “Evidently you already know the answer to that, since you seem to know the answer to everything else.”</p><p><em>Lexa</em> raises an eyebrow ever so slightly. “<em>Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke,</em> but Madi <em>is</em> the product of your night with Sanctum’s Healer.”</p><p>Clarke sucks in a sharp breath at that and has to look away from <em>Lexa</em>, her remaining grasp on what little composure she has left quickly slipping away. Images from that night flash through her mind – the dancing that turned sensual within the span of a couple of songs, the closeness leading to his lips crashing into hers, her hungrily returning his kiss after her 6-year-long dry spell as she tugged at the hair on the back of his head, the way he clumsily lead her away from the party and to his room, their mouths barely separating during the short journey…</p><p><em>Lexa </em>sees the constant flow of tears run from Clarke’s averted eyes and opts for a softer tone once again. “I know this is a lot to take in, Clarke, but there are ways to prove what I’ve said. Madi’s DNA is still present from her previous time here – you have the technology at your disposal to compare the DNA to that of the child you carry. You also have the means at your disposal to confirm that you are, indeed, with child.”</p><p>Raven, seeing Clarke unmoving after <em>Abby’s </em>last statement, confidently steps in for her friend. “You’re damn right we’re going to run tests.” But her voice sounds less confident than she’d hoped, having already connected the dots in her mind and knowing the being’s explanation to be true. It all made so much more sense now.</p><p><em>Abby </em>stands to her full height once more and simply says, “By all means, run all of the tests you deem fit. Although I should warn you that just because we created Madi from what had been a future event, that doesn’t ensure her survival. Miscarriage or other causes of premature death are still possible, so I’d advise you to be cautious should you want the child to live.”</p><p>Clarke’s head snaps up at those words, her voice fierce and unwavering. “Of <em>course </em>we want her to survive. She <em>will </em>survive. I’ll make sure of it this time.” Despite the sadness that bleeds through her voice at the end, Clarke’s words come out with the renewed strength of a determined mother.</p><p><em>Lexa</em> just nods once in Clarke’s direction before addressing the group one final time. “I will leave you then with a parting reminder that you now only have approximately 20 hours to decide the fate of the three male embryos on Bardo, one of which already appears to have a genetic defect becoming apparent.”</p><p>With that, the alien being turns away from the speechless group and walks off, disappearing into the wind as if it had just been an apparition.</p><p>Levitt was already making his way towards the tree line with Octavia, Jordan, and Hope hot on his trail as they were heading to Bardo to confirm the existence of the three embryos. Emori saw the movement and quickly grabbed Murphy’s hand in an effort to pull him along to follow. He resisted for a moment until she turned to him, her eyes imploring him to <em>please </em>just go along with her, and he remained silent as he tried to keep up with her pace.</p><p>Raven stood by Clarke, not knowing what the hell to say but also not being willing to give her any space right now. If Clarke was going to melt down, she wasn’t going to do it alone. Not again. Raven watched as what remained of the group headed their way, Jackson kneeling down in front of Clarke as the mechanic overheard him say they’d bring some equipment to Earth after the blonde had declined his offer of traveling to Sanctum together.</p><p>Jackson’s eyes met Raven’s as he stood, and she knew now that she was going to have to leave Clarke for a bit whether she wanted to or not. The doctor could tell her what equipment he needed, but she’d be the brains behind the operation. They both looked to Miller and Indra, seeing them nod at the silent request for the former warriors to be the muscle.</p><p>That left Gaia, Niylah, and Echo to stay with Clarke. Raven could read the question on Echo’s face as their eyes met, but Raven simply jerked her head towards Clarke as Echo nodded once in understanding, a reassuring smile gracing the former spy’s face. Raven shot Echo her own small smile of gratitude before turning to follow her Sanctum team towards the tree line.</p><p>Clarke remained seated, tears of disbelief mingling with hints of hope still streaming down her face, her left arm wrapped tightly – protectively – across her waist as her right hand held to the rock beneath her for support. Picasso had jumped up onto the rock with Clarke and she registered Gaia and Niylah kneeling on either side of her while Echo crouched directly in front her, but whatever they were saying fell on deaf ears. She still couldn’t believe this was happening. She was getting a second chance. She was getting to do it all over again, only from the very beginning this time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Congratulations Times Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We take a trip to Bardo to see exactly what the deal is with these embryos.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Levitt removed his helmet and placed it on the mirrored floor when he felt Octavia slide up next to him, knowing Jordan and Hope stood not far behind. What he wasn’t expecting was to feel the firm hand of Murphy clap his shoulder only to hear, “We going to get this show on the road or what? I heard there were some kids to save, and apparently that’s my thing now.”</p><p>Levitt didn’t know how to take the sly grin he saw on Murphy’s face, so he just looked to Octavia flanking his other side in time to see her nod her encouragement. All eyes were on him and he wanted to shrink under the mass scrutiny, but he supposed being the leader of this trip kinda made sense given that he grew up here and all.</p><p>He held his head as high as he could manage, probably too high if Murphy’s amused reaction was anything to go by, and headed off in the direction of the reproduction tanks. There was a tense silence over the group as they made their way down one hall after another. When they finally reached their destination, a collective gasp resounded behind him as everyone took in the sight before them.</p><p>He probably should’ve warned them that the toxic serum released into the tanks was designed to accelerate the decomposition of any dead matter – resulting in the group being met by a seemingly endless line of tanks filled with floating particles of newly deceased embryos. Levitt swallowed hard against the apology that threatened to burst from his chest and tried to steel his expression as he made the first move to the other side of the room where the males resided.</p><p>He didn’t look to see if anyone else followed, but he managed to catch sight of Octavia’s dark hair out of his peripheral vision. He turned to her, sorrow written all over his face, and she just gave him another encouraging nod with a small smile. <em>God she’s good at that. </em>He immediately felt his expression lift as they arrived at the end of the row of male embryos.</p><p>Three <em>intact</em> male embryos – no sign of decomposition present. <em>Holy shit. </em>Octavia was on his heels as he pivoted around to the side where a pad resided on each tank, providing the ability for an operator to manage the individual embryos. Their status on life support flashed across each screen, and the vitals of all three embryos appeared at the bottom of each pad.</p><p>He heard the click that denoted a selection from beside him and whipped his head around to see Octavia pressing on the prompt in the middle of the tablet belonging to the tank next to him. When he was about to ask what she’d done, she gestured to the flashing red in the middle of the screen that lay in front of him.</p><p><strong><em>Warning: Operator attention required within 19h: 54m: 22s</em></strong><strong>. </strong>Levitt stood frozen watching the seconds tick down on the screen - somehow still unsure of how much time has actually passed before another click to his far right snaps him out of his daze.</p><p>When he looked up again, expecting to see Octavia to his far right, he was greeted by the sight of Murphy and Emori instead. Emori’s position in front of the tablet signaling that she had probably been the one to click the prompt for that particular tank. He took in the look of awe on her face and the wonder alit in her eyes as they were focused intently on the embryo in front of her.</p><p>His gaze shifted to Murphy standing right beside the woman – his mouth agape and his eyes teary as he stared at the same embryo that held his girlfriend’s attention. Levitt tore his gaze away when he felt like he was intruding on what he decided needed to be a private moment between the two. The slight pressure of a hand on his lower back nearly made him jump; he could hear the perpetrator chuckle and he relaxed as Octavia propped her head against his upper arm.</p><p>“Are you going to press that button or should I?” Her tone light despite the way she was staring unblinkingly at the seconds ticking by on the monitor before them.</p><p>Levitt stuttered as he looked down at her. “Do you – do you want me to? I m – I mean is that – is that something that you," he tries to take a quick breath and clear his throat before finishing, “is that something that you want?”</p><p>Octavia finally tears her gaze away from the pad before her, turning her own body and maneuvering his so that they stand face-to-face in front of the tank. “Levitt, it’s a child who has a chance to live. We can’t just let it die now that we know there’s something we can do to prevent it.” The intensity in her eyes betrays the softness of her voice.</p><p>Levitt tries, but he can’t manage to continue meeting her eyes. He opts to look at the floor instead as he speaks. “There’s a difference between saving a child as a one-time thing and saving a child in a more permanent way – like the lifelong way…” His words trail off, and he can feel Octavia all but rip her hand away from his arm. He knew that she finally understood his hesitation.</p><p>It wasn’t a matter of whether or not this embryo would be saved, it was of whether or not he and Octavia would be the ones to save it. <em>Really </em>save it. In the permanent, lifelong way.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Octavia felt her own breathing quicken as the realization of Levitt’s words finally kicked in. He was looking at this as more than just one heroic button press. He was asking her if they were ready to save who would become their child. <em>Their son. </em></p><p>Oh <em>God</em> it was getting harder for her to breathe right now. The fearsome <em>Blodreina</em>, able to face down even the most daunting of tasks and the fiercest of enemies without so much as flinching, was on the verge of all-out panicking over one little embryo. One little embryo who’d grow into one little baby. One little baby who’d grow into one little child, then teenager, and then eventually adult – all with the press of a button.</p><p>A button that, if she pressed alongside of Levitt, would symbolize their responsibility for the <em>eventual </em>child in front of them. She hadn’t even thought about that when she’d pressed the first button – hadn’t even spared a glance at the embryo that resided in the middle tank. Now she felt like she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the one floating in front of her, the healthy ticking of its heartbeat faster than the passing seconds on the screen.</p><p>She took a breath in through her nose only to cough it out of her mouth, her throat having been too tight from the effort she was exerting to try not to cry. She could feel Levitt’s gaze on her, but she couldn’t manage to meet it. He seemingly understood as she sensed him take a step back, giving her a moment to catch her breath and just process everything. She wasn’t alone for long, though, as Hope sidled up next to her in front of the tank.</p><p>Hope, the girl who hasn’t quite caught on to social cues, smiled happily as she wrapped an arm around her aunt, congratulating the woman who’d helped raise her on being promoted from Auntie O to mom. <em>Mom</em>. Oh <em>fuck</em>.</p><p>Octavia spun towards her niece so quickly that the girl had to practically duck to avoid the whip of dark hair that flew her way. Octavia’s words came out rushed, almost frantic. “Hope, I’m not this kid’s – this <em>embryo’s </em>– mom.” She immediately corrected her choice of words because she was dangerously close to seeing something <em>more</em> in the tank in front of her than was actually there.</p><p>Hope just stared at her for a moment, jaw dangling carelessly as her mouth hung open, before a look of pure teenage defiance adorned her 25-year-old face. “What do you mean? You raised me and I think I turned out okay enough! You actually get the title that goes along with the work this time - of course you’re taking this baby.” Hope crosses her arms as she huffs indignantly.</p><p>A bitter laugh escapes from Octavia, and it almost scares her at how <em>unhinged </em>the noise sounds. “Your mom and I were a team, Hope, we balanced each other out. Besides, there wasn’t really a choice to be made there. I followed your mom to Skyring, she gave birth, and there you were. I <em>delivered </em>you, Hope. Of <em>course</em> I was going to fall in love with you right away and help Diyoza raise you. There was never any question about that." The brunette finishes in the “firm” voice she used to use to convey to little Hope that the conversation was over.</p><p>Apparently it didn’t have the same effect on adult Hope as she watched the girl, no – <em>woman – </em>throw her arms up in exasperation before jumping into an impassioned rant. “So you only helped raise me because you had no <em>choice</em>? Well, it doesn’t seem like you have much of a <em>choice </em>now either based on the way you and Levitt have been looking at this <em>baby boy</em>, Auntie O. <em>Yes</em>, it’s a <em>baby</em> that you’ve been gawking at all this time – don’t think it’s gone unnoticed. You two haven’t exactly been the picture of subtly standing here.”</p><p>Octavia watched in shock as her niece glared at her in a way that was so <em>Diyoza</em> that it almost hurt. What <em>actually </em>hurt was hearing Hope say that her aunt was essentially forced to raise her. That was something Octavia knew she had to correct right away.</p><p>The brunette settled her hands on either of her niece’s shoulders as she looked deeply into the girl’s eyes, breathing in threw her own nose and successfully releasing the breath out through her mouth as Hope followed suit. At least <em>something </em>from her niece’s childhood was still effective.</p><p>She waited for Hope to exhale her third calming breath before addressing the girl. “I know I said I didn’t have a choice before, but that wasn’t true. I had a choice when I watched your mom follow an invisible little girl into a swirling vortex of green, and I made the choice to follow her – to follow <em>both </em>of you – and I have never regretted that choice, Hope. Not once. I never will either, so you can just push that thought right out of your mind.”</p><p>Hope heard the sincerity in her aunt’s voice and needed her to hear the same sincerity in her own response to the older woman. “Just like you have a choice now. A choice I know you’ll regret if you make anything <em>but </em>the obvious decision here. Jordan and I saw the way you and Levitt have been looking at this baby. We’ve seen the way you look at each other every single day that you’re together. You can do this, Auntie O. You may have a new partner, but I’m still on your team. Jordan is now too. We even agreed to offer conditional babysitting services to you and you alone!”</p><p>Octavia couldn’t help but laugh genuinely at her niece’s last statement, her defenses falling hopelessly as she glanced in Levitt’s direction and saw him eyeing her with more hope in his eyes than she’d ever thought she’d see in any man.</p><p>Any man. <em>Lincoln.</em></p><p>Seeing Lincoln, or at least Lincoln’s likeness, only an hour ago after so many years of only ever seeing that face in her dreams had left Octavia more shaken than she’d cared to admit. Seeing his form in front of her again almost made her feel like she was betraying him somehow with Levitt. Levitt, the man whose disposition was <em>so </em>different from Lincoln’s, but it was why Octavia loved him.</p><p>That’s what hit her the hardest earlier – she’d fallen in love with a man who was basically nothing like Lincoln, and the guilt she felt over that had clouded her feelings towards this embryo, no, this <em>baby</em>.</p><p>Hope interrupted Octavia’s thoughts with a gentle hand to the brunette’s shoulder as she softly said, “Talk to him, Auntie O. He deserves that. I mean it’s not everyday you find a guy who spent his whole life trying to achieve one goal only to turn that goal away <em>just </em>to be with you,” Hope finished pointedly.</p><p>“He didn’t do it just…”</p><p>Hope’s tone was amused as she huffed. “Oh don’t <em>even</em>. We all know it was at least <em>mainly </em>for you. Game face, Auntie O, he’s headed this way." She looked to where her niece’s head had nodded before the girl flashed a smile at Levitt and made her way back over the Jordan.</p><p>Levitt’s voice was heartbreakingly hesitant. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” He gestured to Hope who was already giggling along with Jordan.</p><p>Octavia smiled at the sight. “Not at all. Hope was just – reminding me of some things, that’s all.” Octavia redirected her smile towards Levitt, feeling it increase in its vibrancy with one look at him.</p><p>She watched as his infamous shy smile graced his face and he looked down towards his feet. Octavia grabbed both of his hands with her own and ducked to catch his eyes. She needed for him to be looking her in the eye for this.</p><p>When his gaze finally locked onto hers, a hint of question behind it, she felt her courage burn bright with her words. “I love you, Levitt,” she said sincerely, watching his brows draw together in confusion, as if he were waiting for a <em>but</em>. She couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the look before continuing. “I know we haven’t technically known each other for very long, but you’ve already seen some of the most vulnerable parts of me – parts not even longtime friends have seen. You’ve managed to stir something within me that I thought I’d lost a long time ago. Your purity – your light – it’s managed to reawaken a purity in myself that I thought I’d never see again after I was thrown into the Sky Box. That loss only solidified after Lincoln's death, the ensuing wars, the years in the bunker…”</p><p>Octavia had to take another deep breath in and out to calm where her mind was going. She looked back to Levitt to see him looking at her with all the tenderness and patience in the world. She still wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve that look; she probably never would understand what she did, but he reserved it only for her just the same.</p><p>“It wasn’t all bad, you know – the time in the bunker. I’ve never told anyone this before, but back before – back before the dark year,” she only hesitated slightly at the words, “I learned how to access old Earth movies from before the bombs. Movies I was able to watch on the projector after things had calmed down for the night back when we still <em>had </em>calm nights. You may not believe this, but I used to watch this genre of movies called Romantic Comedies before I went into full <em>Blodreina</em> mode.”</p><p>Octavia laughed breathlessly before she explained. “They made me feel good – light. They distracted me from all the animosity that seemed to surround me and gave me hope that I wouldn’t let that animosity swallow me whole. It was a great feeling while I had it,” Octavia finished wistfully before tightening her grip on Levitt’s hands.</p><p>“Eventually I did end up being swallowed whole by all of that animosity, and I was certain that the girl who watched those movies in the middle of the night was gone for good. You brought her back, Levitt. <em>You </em>make me feel so much more than those movies ever did. You make me feel a lightness I don’t think I’ve felt since I chased glowing butterflies in the dark of night. I need you to know that you make me <em>want </em>to be a better person. To want to hold onto that light and spread it to others. Including this baby.”</p><p>Octavia watched as his lip quivered and the first of many tears escaped his eyes, her own voice thick with emotion as she brushed at one of his cheeks and whispered, “I want to do this with you. I want us to watch this baby grow into a little boy and then into a little man, us beside him every step of the way. I want our light to become his light, and I can’t make that happen without you. So what do ya say, partners?” The look she gives him is soft, expectant.</p><p>It quickly turns to shock at his response. “No,” he chokes out.</p><p>
  <em>No?</em>
</p><p>Before Octavia’s head can even begin to spin at that word, he continues between quiet sobs. “Not just partners; parents. I say parents, Octavia. Partner parents. Or do you prefer parent partners? Because I can do eith…”</p><p>He doesn’t get to finish his rambling because Octavia’s lips come crashing into his, her tears mixing with his own, and they’re <em>happy</em> tears this time. The first of many joyous tears he’s sure they’ll shed over the baby before them. <em>Their son</em>. Levitt pressed the button on the pad to his left, his mouth never breaking contact with Octavia’s as the red warning disappeared and flashed a calming blue. Almost as calming as the fast heartbeat that graced their ears.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Murphy was the one to finally drag Emori away from the sickening sight of the decomposing babies as he heard one resounding click come from the direction where Octavia and Levitt had headed. He was the one to pull at Emori’s hand with a plea in his eyes this time as he just wanted to drag her away from here and get this over with. He wasn’t even sure why she wanted to tag along on this little excursion – his mind refusing to entertain the thoughts that threatened to force their way forward.</p><p>They finally reached the end of the row on the other side of the room, the row where Octavia and Levitt stood between the two inner tanks as the one on the end was left alone. He felt a tug at his hand and peeled his eyes away from the contraption before him only to see that Emori had finally lifted her gaze away from the floor.</p><p>He allowed himself to be dragged forward once again as he found himself suddenly standing in front of the tank at the end of the row – his eyes on the small monitor before him instead of the baby he could tell floated just within his line of sight. He felt another squeeze of the hand that was still connected to his girlfriend’s. He turned his head ever so slightly and knew he was screwed the moment he saw her face.</p><p>Emori’s eyes were glued to what lay in the tank before them, an expression on her face full of so much wonder that he was sure he’d never seen it on her before. Not even when she looked out into space for the first time or when they initially landed in Sanctum. But there was more than just wonder in her eyes, and that was what was scaring him.</p><p>Murphy would recognize that look on her anywhere. It was the most stunning look Emori had if anyone ever asked him. Her look of pure, all-encompassing love. Until now, he’d only ever seen her look at him that way, and only during their rarest of tender moments, yet here she was eagerly bestowing it upon a floating, misshapen potato in a tank.</p><p>Maybe not a comparison he should voice in this moment, but it was his first thought when he’d finally let his eyes flit towards the embryo before him. He could still hear the ticking of the seconds as the countdown continued, Emori seemingly oblivious to the sound as he watched her gloved left hand gently stroke the tank where the baby’s face was forming.</p><p>Only it didn’t look to be forming completely. Something was wrong.</p><p>
  <em>“…one of which already has a genetic defect becoming apparent…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Godfuckingdamn that alien, man.</em>
</p><p>Murphy’s free hand came up to rub at his forehead and then drag down his face, settling to cover his mouth as he further examined the baby's features. Arms and legs? Check. Fingers and toes? Impending check. Skull? Check. Nose forming? Check. Chin? Check. Eyes? Sewed shut, but two divots were there, so check. Mouth? Therein lied the problem. The bottom lip was there, but the top lip had a noticeable gap separating the upper lip into two where it should’ve been one. Either side of the split parts of the top lip attached just below each nostril of the kid’s barely-there nose.</p><p>Murphy knew enough to know that the kid was obviously fine right now, his life-sustaining nutrients and what not being delivered to him via the tube running from the top of the tank down to where the baby’s bellybutton would be.</p><p>It’s cool and all that he’s healthy and stable now, but how the hell was he supposed to eat and breathe after he was born? Is it still technically called being born or is this more of a hatching situation? Murphy shakes his head at the thought, his hand finally leaving his mouth in favor of running through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down.</p><p>He was about to question just why he’d started to feel panicked in the first place, and then he looked back to Emori, her left hand now ungloved and pressed firmly to the glass, as her expression had shifted to what he knew to be her determined look. It was the same look she wore whenever Raven gave her a task or one of “The Faithful” turned to her for anything.</p><p>He felt panic bubble up again when he saw that look. The panic only increased as he looked back to the kid’s face, his hand covering his own mouth again. It was like he felt guilty by the thought that the baby may somehow see his full upper lip despite the fact that the kid doesn’t even have fully formed eyeballs yet.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>. He wishes Jackson were here. He <em>needs </em>Jackson to be here. He needs to hear the doctor say that this is no big deal – that there’s an easy fix that won’t make this a permanent fixture in the kid’s life. Although Murphy won’t acknowledge <em>why</em> he feels so desperate to hear Jackson give him those reassurances.</p><p>He doesn’t have to acknowledge it. Emori voices it for him, her tone final as she does. “This is our son, John.” He looks to her again, his hand dropping listlessly from his mouth down to his side. She’s clutching his left hand tightly in her right, her other hand still contacting the glass in front of them like she’s somehow trying to physically connect them as a family in a weird handholding session or something. Only he knows what she’s actually doing; she’s staking her claim. Emori has spent more time examining the embryo than he has – clearly she’s seen what he's seen – and now she’s announcing the decision for both of them.</p><p>He knows he shouldn’t fight her right now when she looks like this, but it comes out anyway. “Emori, you can’t decide just like that. We need to talk about this. We need to see what Jackson has to say." He tries to keep his voice calm and reasonable, but he knows that no tone of voice can save him now as she throws his own hand back at him.</p><p>“John, I’ve never wanted anything in my life the way I want this. The way I need this. I need him, and he needs me. He needs <em>us</em>, John,” she says emphatically.</p><p>Murphy can’t help the way his pitch increases to match hers. “We don’t even know what we’re doing, Emori! We don’t even know what to do with a normal kid, let alone…”</p><p>Thank God he stops himself before he can finish that statement. He steps back just a bit, hands raised in surrender, all too aware of her seething expression and clenched right hand.</p><p>Her voice is dangerous when she speaks again. “Let alone <em>what</em>, John? I’m <em>begging </em>you to finish your sentence." His eyes can’t seem to look away from the way her right fist twitches, itching to connect with his face.</p><p>His voice is low, “I didn’t mean that Emori; I’m just <em>worried</em>, okay? There, ya happy?” Antagonizing her probably isn’t the best road to take right now, but he’s Murphy and that’s just what he does.</p><p>What she says next is why he loves her so fucking much that it hurts.</p><p>Her fist unclenches and she moves towards him, her hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “I’m worried too, John, which is exactly why I know we’re the best parents for this baby. The <em>only </em>parents for this baby.” She turns away from him to once again look at the embryo before she continues.</p><p>“I know what life for him could be like, John. I know the challenges he could face better than just about anyone. Do you remember when I told you how I felt as Kaylee Prime? How I felt important and needed by people and it gave me purpose? John, the intensity of my feelings about raising this child put anything I felt in Sanctum to shame.” She’s pleading and she knows that’s unfair, but she needs for him to understand. She needs for him to agree.</p><p>His silence makes something in her skin crawl with anticipation as she watches his eyes harden on the embryo.</p><p>He casts his gaze downwards before saying something almost inaudible. “Okay, but we’re not getting our hopes up until we let Jackson look at him.”</p><p>It’s just loud enough for her to catch it, and she squeals as she launches herself at him, laughing as she hears his mutter of, “So much for not getting our hopes up,” next to her ear.</p><p>She doesn’t care about anything else right now. She just grabs his hand and guides it over towards the monitor attached to the baby’s tank, her hand atop his as she presses his fingers into the button and they both watch the monitor flash blue. Their son’s heartbeat joins that of the embryo next to him, both just <em>slightly </em>out of sync with one another.</p><p>Despite the bundle of nerves that painfully knots itself in Murphy’s stomach, he can never regret something that makes Emori this happy. He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’ll do <em>anything </em>to keep her this happy, and that means this kid has to be okay. Their son <em>will </em>be okay. He vows it to himself the same way Clarke vowed that Madi would survive.</p><p>The only thing that manages to tear his attention away from his little family is the sound of one final click to his far left, a quick glance revealing an embracing Octavia and Levitt in front of the first tank. He can’t help but smile at the sight.</p><p>For the first time, Murphy’s free hand joins Emori’s on the tank. Maybe there is something to this family handholding thing after all.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Jordan wanders about the room in utter fascination, not even the least bit creeped out by all of the dead babies surrounding them. He’s too busy examining the tanks to seem to care. He knows the tanks are useless in terms of their original use for human reproduction, but Hope can hear him chattering excitedly about the possibility of trying to grow algae in the tanks.</p><p>The tanks that currently house decomposing bodies. <em>Ew</em>. Somehow Jordan manages to make even powdered jellyfish sound good, the thought eliciting a snort from the girl as she looks anywhere <em>but </em>at the tanks.</p><p>She decides to turn her attention towards the side of the room where she sees the two other couples standing. She’s only half listening to whatever Jordan’s saying about fertilizer because she’s so caught up in watching her aunt right now. The older woman is looking at a floating embryo the way Hope remembers the brunette looking at her when she was little. Knowing her Auntie O, the older woman probably doesn’t even realize it.</p><p>Jordan’s voice sounding beside her startles her out of her reverie.</p><p>“Hey, you okay?” His voice is soothing and soft as always, and it makes her weak in the knees every time. It wasn’t the words he said, it was <em>how </em>he said them. Everything Jordan said to her was like a lullaby – it soothed every inch of her and drove out all of the dark thoughts.</p><p>She smiled as she looked to him. “Yeah, just wondering how long it’s going to take Auntie O to realize that the baby she’s looking at is hers.” She hears Jordan’s soft giggle sound next to her.</p><p>His eyes meet hers and her heart skips a beat all over again and <em>what in the world is wrong with her? </em>How can one person affect her <em>this </em>much?! She’s torn from her thoughts once again by his voice.</p><p>“Why don’t you go give her a little push?” Jordan emphasizes his point by nudging her shoulder with his own, a brilliant grin on his face. She just smiles and nods before heading towards Octavia.</p><p>-</p><p>When Hope saunters back over to Jordan, he doesn’t even have to verbalize his question because she’s already discreetly shooting a “thumbs up” his way. The boy breaks out into a giddy giggle that Hope matches with her own, and they look back just in time to see Octavia and Levitt’s embrace after the resounding click they hear as the tank in front of the older couple turns a subtle shade of blue.</p><p>Hope’s giggles fade into a smile as she says, “Two down, one to go!”</p><p>Jordan’s face wrinkles in confusion at the statement. “What?”</p><p>Hope faces him again, the smile falling from her face as she takes in his expression. “Yeah, the embryo in the middle is unclaimed. There are two couples over there with three embryos. It took this long for them to commit to one baby each, I promise you neither couple is going to take on a second.” The girl explains it as if it should make all the sense in the world already. <em>Duh</em>.</p><p>Jordan’s never felt his face actually pale before, but he’s pretty sure that’s got to be the tingling sensation happening right now. He looks helplessly at Hope as he says, “We’re the third couple…”</p><p>The panic he sees in her eyes somehow manages to outdo his own as she sputters, “N-no. We – I just – I just came here because I had seen the tanks before – and – and I go where Auntie O goes and all that. I, I I’m not here for a-anything like <em>that</em>.” Her arms are flailing about wildly as she paces, not caring that she’s stuttering because just the <em>implication </em>of what Jordan said has her ready to flee back to Skyring. Only that would give her enough distance from this <em>situation</em>.</p><p>Jordan’s voice squeaks as he rambles. “I’m not either! I just came to check out the tech and to follow you,” his hands then shoot up in a defensive gesture, “not that I’m <em>following </em>you following you. Not like in a creepy way or anything. Like in a <em>tagging along </em>way.” Now he’s pacing in a path adjacent to her, his hands shaking in front of him like he’s warding something off.</p><p>Hope’s voice is borderline hysterical. “I mean I’m not even really a <em>real </em>adult! I literally grew up knowing three people – I barely know how to <em>be </em>a person, let alone <em>raise </em>one!”</p><p>Jordan’s voice is just as high as hers as he responds. “You got to grow up with three whole people? I only had two! I’m biologically older than the people I grew up hearing stories about! I’m smart, but I’m not like <em>wise</em> or anything. Not like the kind of wise you have to be to raise a kid. I’m the kind of smart who, like, <em>talks</em> to kids about technical stuff, and they don’t even <em>like </em>that!”</p><p>Hope continues where Jordan leaves off, as if she hasn’t heard a word he’s said. “It’s not like I’d <em>kill </em>a kid or anything. I mean I don’t hate them like <em>that</em>…”</p><p>Jordan interrupts, horrified. “No, no me either! I’d never kill a kid! I like them well enough. You know, like enough to <em>not</em> kill them but not enough to <em>raise </em>one, know what I mean?”</p><p>Hope, finally stopping to actually look at Jordan, nods so hard Jordan worries she may get whiplash. “Yeah, totally! Absolutely! No killing them <em>or </em>raising them. I’d like wave hi to one or something. I smiled at Madi once!”</p><p>Jordan feels compelled to share his own experience in a rush. “She stabbed me once and I didn’t try and kill her in return or anything!”</p><p>It’s that statement that makes it so that Miller can no longer hide his presence, his laughter barking out and echoing through the large room. Hope and Jordan both turn to find Miller, helmet tucked beneath his arm, using his free hand to clutch his abdomen as he nearly doubles over in laughter.</p><p>The two eye him first with shock, then offense, until finally giving in and laughing softly right along with him.</p><p>When the three manage to settle, Miller wipes away the tears that had forced their way out as Jordan voices what Hope’s thinking.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” There’s no accusation behind his words, just genuine curiosity.</p><p>Miller straightens his posture, like he’s remembering an important task at hand. “Jackson wasn’t able to come since he’s about to go check on Clarke. He, Raven, and Indra told me they could handle the rest of what they needed to transport.”</p><p>Hope finally speaks up, her tone less curious and more accusatory. “But what are you doing <em>here</em> though?”</p><p>Miller eyes her with what she thinks is almost disgust as he responds. “I mean if it’s <em>that</em> big of a deal for you to know, Jack and I got to talking about the embryos while we were gathering everything he needed for Clarke and M- her baby. We’d never really talked about kids before, but the more time we spent gathering the equipment, the more we both wondered about what was going on here.”</p><p>He leans to peak past Jordan’s shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of what’s transpiring on the other side of the room. “I jokingly mentioned that neither of us put our name in the lottery this time, so we wouldn’t have a chance at a baby. He ended up not taking it as a joke, and I agreed that I didn’t want to regret not at least <em>trying</em> to take in one of the babies, if possible.”</p><p>Jordan, rocking from heel to toe in excitement, smiles brightly at Miller and says, “You’re in luck – there just so happens to be one unclaimed embryo.” He points to the tank nestled in the middle of where the other two couples stand. “Do you want to go meet your new son now or wait for Jackson?”</p><p>Miller’s smile matches Jordan’s in both size and intensity – a feat Hope didn’t think possible, especially not from <em>Miller</em> of all people. But his obvious delight is clearly infectious, because she damn near <em>skips</em> next to Jordan behind Miller as they all cheer when the man jokingly makes the “click” sound with his mouth, the button having already been the first one pushed despite being the last embryo claimed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I seriously have the BEST readers ever! You guys are AWESOME! Thank you for all of the feedback and love in the comments. I like to do my best to respond to everyone when I can. Next chapter we'll probably split some time catching up with Clarke on Earth and the team on Sanctum.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Foreign Thoughts & Familiar Feelings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Raven and Jackson set out to give Clarke the answers she so desperately desires.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jackson, Raven, Indra, and Miller were all donning helmets upon their arrival to Sanctum. Time on Sanctum was faster than time on Earth due to the time dilation, but not enough to cause any real consequences. The helmets were out of an abundance of caution at this point, and to help obscure the view of the “bone throne” room, as Raven liked to call it. She muttered something about moving the damn stone during another trip one day. Nobody voiced a protest to that idea.</p><p>Much like Clarke upon her arrival on Sanctum after humanity transcended, nobody removed their helmets until they were clear of that room. Only then were they able to go about their divide and conquer method of collecting equipment and other necessities.</p><p>Raven was working her way up the staircase leading to the <em>secret </em>lab of the Primes, stifling a groan with every steep step she had to navigate. Luckily, she wasn’t in a rush this time – a fact she made known to the group before they split up. Turns out time dilation had some perks after all. They could spend hours here and it would be but mere minutes on Earth.</p><p>Jackson was heading to the obstetrics/neonatal section of Sanctum’s medical quarters for the first time to see what was available there. Clarke didn’t seem convinced of her pregnancy yet, but <em>The Judge</em> that looked like Abby provided the doctor himself with all the proof he needed to trust the validity of the beings’ claims.</p><p>Miller was pulling on the latex gloves he’d grabbed from medical at the bunker as he headed towards Cillian’s former apartment to collect viable DNA samples and anything else of interest. He tucked the small box of plastic sample baggies under his arm, having been given strict instructions to <em>not </em>touch any possible genetic materials with his bare hands and to bag his findings immediately and <em>carefully</em>.</p><p>Indra, always up for a challenge, was making the trek across Sanctum’s growing fields and heading towards the shield – code memorized along with her instructions to secure Raven’s computer from Eligius’ ship. Still being part warrior at heart, she knew there’d be room on the machine’s cart for any weapons she may happen to stumble upon while there. She’d then take a quick detour to the farmhouse before meeting everyone back at the quad.</p><p>Jackson’s excitement continued to grow as he took in the various machines and instruments that greeted him upon arrival at the ward. He knew from his experience with the hidden lab that the medical equipment on Sanctum was lightyears ahead of what they’d had in the bunker. He eyed the frequency and frame rates listed on the ultrasound machine and was damn near giddy to see how much higher it was than what they’d been working with for so long. They’d be able to get infinitely magnified images at a much higher resolution with this equipment. All safe for mother and baby, of course. Unlike with Raven, safety came first for Jackson. Better specs were just an added bonus to aid him in his line of work.</p><p>The goofy grin he wore never left his face as he filled the largest portable cart he could find with generic necessities like syringes while also being sure to grab genetic testing equipment he knew would be compatible with the programs on the computer Raven was collecting from the other lab. Programs that could perform even the most complex DNA sequencing and differentiation in a matter of seconds with any form of genetic material available.</p><p>He filled the last shelf of the cart with vitamins, herbs, and supplements the former inhabitants of the moon had used for their expectant mothers. He planned to test them, of course, but instinct told him they’d only be beneficial in the end. Sparing one last glance at the almost bare section before him, Jackson made a grab for some stray bottles and strategically cut cloths he saw scattered about.</p><p>He told himself they were for Clarke even as his mind drifted to the possibility of there being three viable embryos on Bardo. The thoughts only intensified as he headed towards Sanctum’s medical library to gather any helpful literature on reproduction. He pocketed a small guide on fatherhood before tossing an ancient, well-worn copy of <em>“What To Expect When You’re Expecting” </em>atop his nearly overflowing cart.</p><p>-</p><p>Miller had been afraid that the Sanctumites, or whatever the hell they were called, had already turned over Cillian’s room to place another inhabitant in the space. He grew up on The Ark, after all, and they had a turnaround that saw quarters cleaned and prepped before the body of the previous inhabitant was even cold.</p><p>He let out a loud sigh of relief when he opened the door to find an unmade bed, paperwork haphazardly strewn about, and absolutely no sign of a cleaning crew having been in the apartment. A glance at the dark blood stains on the floor had him tightening his jaw and looking away. <em>At least there wasn’t a body</em>, which was actually a huge comfort to him after everything.</p><p>The place looked ransacked – probably by one of Russel’s incompetent soldiers in an effort to intercept any intel the former doctor-turned-traitor had collected for the Children of Gabriel. Miller scanned the room, eyes lighting up as they landed on a dresser with a comb sitting on the surface of the dark wood. <em>Jackpot</em>. Rolling his eyes at the memory of the <em>careful </em>lecture, Miller grabbed the comb by its spine with a gloved hand and placed the entire thing into a baggie. No way was he risking screwing this up by only grabbing a few hairs that may not even have roots.</p><p>Setting the bagged comb on the disheveled bed, he made his way towards a door he knew would likely lead to a bathroom. Briefly closing his eyes and gently pumping his fist in victory, he walked towards the sink in what was, indeed, a bathroom, and pulled out another baggie to <em>carefully </em>place the single toothbrush into. If Jack couldn’t get this dude’s DNA with these materials, Miller didn’t know what to tell him. He just knew he wasn’t getting down on his hands and knees to swab any crusted blood off of the floor.</p><p>His main task was to collect viable sources for DNA samples, but he’d also been asked to nose around a bit for anything the doctor may have hidden for himself or anything else that looked like it could be remotely helpful. Miller grabbed a rucksack he saw lying by the door and rifled through it for a moment – moving to sling it over his shoulder as a means to efficiently carry his findings. He slid the baggies into a small compartment on the front before heading over to the dead man’s desk.</p><p>He was immediately greeted by a paper filled with drawings of people – <em>his </em>people. Some were x’d out, some were left unmarked, and Clarke was circled. His frown deepened at the sight as he shoved the drawing in his bag and opened some drawers that turned up nothing of importance. Looks like the good doc wasn’t one to take his work home – <em>at least not his medical work</em>, Miller thought bitterly as he tried to flatten out the paper he’d shoved in the bag. In the very last drawer he opened, he found the face of the doctor himself staring back at him in a stunningly clear photograph of the guy. Not a drawing, but an actual <em>photo, </em>like from a <em>camera</em>. Like the pictures of The Primes that still littered the walls in various buildings.</p><p>Miller looked to the bold text printed just beneath the photo that read <strong><em>Cillian Marks – Red-Blooded Carrier &amp; Sanctum’s Leading Physician</em></strong>. <em>Interesting title</em>. Must’ve been a requirement to include that on what appeared to be a staff directory photo. The designation was probably the equivalent of being from Alpha Station on The Ark – a status symbol saying your value meant you couldn’t easily be replaced.</p><p>He let his eyes settle on the actual image of the man for just a second, immediately spotting similarities between the deceased dude and Madi. Realizing that this image may very well be the only image in existence of the kid’s biological father, he gingerly placed it into his bag to give to Clarke before leaving the apartment without so much as a parting glance.</p><p>-</p><p>Miller spied Jackson exiting what he knew to be the medical library with an obscenely full cart wobbling in front of the man. He felt a half-smile come on at the sight as he made his way towards his boyfriend, his gaze falling to a small book that fell from the doctor’s pocket. He rushed forward to pick up the item only to freeze once a word from the title caught his attention: <strong><em>Fatherhood</em></strong>.</p><p>Jack, looking part offended and part embarrassed, snatched the book from Miller’s grasp and made to shove it into a different, more secure pocket in this clothing.</p><p>“We didn’t throw our names into the lottery this time, Jacks,” the former soldier joked.</p><p>After a beat of heavy silence, Jackson heard a whispered, “You been thinking about them too?”</p><p>Miller’s words caused Jackson’s head to snap up at a comical speed, the color visibly draining from the man’s face before me manages to half-whisper a reply.</p><p>“They’re the last generation of the human race, Nate, how could I not?” Jackson looks away before adding, “They’re the last – no, the <em>only </em>chance we have at something like this. At an opportunity like this.”</p><p>Jackson meets Miller’s eyes and is surprised to find a lack of shock or indignation on the man’s face. Instead, a rare calmness is visible in his boyfriend’s typically stoic features.</p><p>Miller manages to surprise him yet again when he voices his own thoughts. “It’s our only shot at something we didn’t have the chance to know we wanted until we realized there’s no chance left to table the discussion again. I think we should go for it, Jacks. I know you’d definitely regret it if we didn’t, and I think I would too. Especially if it meant having to see you heartbroken over something that we’ll be constantly reminded of for the rest of our days.”</p><p>Jackson’s smile couldn’t be any bigger despite the quivering of his lip and the tears pooling in his eyes. He moves to grab his boyfriend and holds him in a close embrace before whispering, “Go get our son,” into the man’s ear.</p><p>Before Miller can even form a response, Jackson is pulling away from him while pushing the cart his way.</p><p>“Drop this off in the stone room at the bunker for me, please,” the doctor requests as he turns the cart’s handle towards Miller. “Don’t worry about doing anything with it or finding anyone. Just leave it and head straight to Bardo before it’s too late. Please,” Jackson finishes eagerly.</p><p>Miller just smirks at his love, grabs the handle of the cart, and says, “Good luck explaining this to Raven,” over his shoulder before quickly turning back on his heel to slide the rucksack off of his back and place it into Jackson’s awaiting hand.</p><p>“For Clarke,” is all Miller says in response to Jackson’s confused look.</p><p>With a nod from the doctor, Miller turns back to the cart and pushes it towards Sanctum’s stone room. A brilliant smile threatening to split his face in two at the words “<em>our son” </em>still floating around in his head.</p><p>-</p><p>Raven, little to the surprise of Jackson, is none too thrilled at the loss of the extra set of arms and legs, but she doesn’t push the issue after hearing Miller still managed to transport what had been their biggest load back to Earth for them.</p><p>She’s disconnected all of the drives and monitors she wants to take, having waited for assistance in transferring them to her own cart in fear of her sore leg buckling under the added weight. Jackson manages to quickly, but <em>carefully</em>, per Raven’s loud demands, transfer and secure the drives and monitors to the cart just in time to hear Indra calling out for them from the quad.</p><p>Raven wears a knowing smirk and Jackson just laughs when they emerge with their cart to see Indra wielding a cart of her own. A cart with Raven’s drive and monitor from Eligius IV surrounded by an assortment of guns, clothing, ration packs, a hairbrush she knew to be from the farmhouse, and packets of powder Raven recognizes as instant soup. <em>Just add water</em>, she remembers, her smirk deepening at the thought.</p><p>“Ready?” Indra calls out.</p><p>“Ready.” Raven assures with a firm nod.</p><p>And with that, the Sanctum team makes their way towards the <em>bone throne</em> room, throw their helmets back on just before entering, and push their carts into the awaiting green light of the Anomaly – only narrowly missing where Miller had left his own during his brief stop.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Clarke stood in her room <em>alone</em>, much to her surprised relief, resisting the urge to start pacing the length of the room as she wondered how long Jackson and Raven would take.</p><p>She almost rolled her eyes at the way her mother’s voice echoed in her head. <em>They <strong>just</strong> left, Clarke; patience is a virtue.</em></p><p>A virtue she struggled with even on the best of days. Today, however, she knew it would be an impossible feat for her. She finally lost the battle with herself and started pacing – actively warding off thoughts of the last time she had been in this room. The few candles she’d lit then now melted down to dried puddles of wax.</p><p>
  <em>“Pick a bed. You’ll be less mad at me in the morning.”</em>
</p><p>The sharp intake of breath that forced its way through her lungs almost hurt as the first memory assaulted her; her eyes already starting to sting at the thoughts she desperately tried to keep at bay.</p><p>Luckily for her, the door opened swiftly – revealing a determined looking Echo – managing to break Clarke from the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.</p><p>Clarke felt herself shrink as Echo eyed her appraisingly. <em>Great, a welfare check not even five minutes into solitude.</em></p><p>Echo straightened a bit before smiling, easily reading Clarke’s exasperated expression. “Could’ve been worse, you know? Niylah could be here endlessly spouting out riddles she believes to be pearls of wisdom,” Echo snorts. “Or Gaia could be in here forcing you on the floor to meditate,” the former spy finishes with an amused lift of her eyebrow.</p><p>Clarke feels the smallest of smiles cross her face despite herself, raising her own eyebrow at the woman in anticipation of an explanation.</p><p>Echo nods once and says, “Right. My plan,” the woman crosses her arms as she softens her voice, “is to close this door, with me on the other side of it, and sit against that wall right there.” She finishes with a jab of her thumb over her shoulder at the wall opposite Clarke’s door.</p><p>“That’s it?” The blonde asks in disbelief.</p><p>Echo huffs a laugh at that. “That’s it,” she confirms with another nod. “Although I will have you know that I had to make a blood oath to our <em>Fleimkepa </em>out there that I’d inform you of the fact that you’re not alone and never will be…”</p><p>Clarke interrupted whatever was coming next as her hand drifted down and fingers grazed her abdomen. “So we’ve been told,” she adds ruefully.</p><p>Echo barely contains the sigh she feels coming. “Look, I’m not going to stand here and tell you that I believe everything we were told and that it’ll all work out,” the brunette pauses to move closer before continuing, “but I will reiterate Gaia’s words that you won’t be alone. No matter what the outcome is of whatever the hell is going on.”</p><p>Clarke almost bristles at the startling sincerity she hears in Echo’s voice. She knows she can’t meet the woman’s gaze because it’ll likely hold a genuineness to it that Clarke can’t handle right now. Her emotions are too erratic at the moment to let the weight of Echo’s words sink in.</p><p>Echo, seeing the way the muscles at Clarke’s throat tighten, decides to back out of the doorway and gently close the door behind her before lowering herself to her designated seat across from the room, vowing silently that she'd be barging in without a second thought at the first sign of distress from the blonde.</p><p>Clarke heard the door click shut and let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She sat on her previously claimed bunk and clutched at the fabric covering her lower belly as her hand closed into a tight fist around the material.</p><p>Her eyes bore holes into the spot where Madi had stood across from her not 24 hours ago during their argument, the girl’s words dancing through her head and serving as yet another cruel reminder of her daughter’s absence.</p><p>Or, at least, the absence of the 12-year-old version Clarke had spent years raising and loving.</p><p>She tugged at her shirt with her fist as her eyes squeezed shut at the thought that <em>her</em> Madi, the version she knew and wanted back, was forever lost to her. That the only possibility of seeing her that way again was to wait about thirteen years. Clarke’s stomach turned at the very thought, the terror she was beginning to feel threatening to overtake her completely.</p><p>Nothing could <em>possibly </em>be more agonizing than realizing she’d have to mourn the Madi she knew. The daughter she loved.</p><p>She didn’t think her thoughts could get any worse until another possibility crept its way forward from the back of Clarke’s mind. A possibility lingering only to reveal she isn’t pregnant at all. Or, even worse, she <em>is</em> pregnant and the child she delivers somehow doesn’t have blue eyes or dark hair or female anatomy.</p><p>Those last thoughts are what finally send her over the edge; Clarke feels her stomach clench as she doubles over and violently vomits all over the floor at her feet.</p><p>She’s in the midst of one final retch when Echo rushes in and makes her way to the blonde’s side, helpless panic evident on the brunette’s face. She can only think to lay a gentle hand on the woman’s back while Clarke gasps for air before breaking out into a fit of sobs.</p><p>Echo knows she’s on autopilot when she watches her own hand perform the foreign act of stroking up and down the woman’s back. A shushing sound hitting her ears startles her when she realizes the noise is coming from her own mouth.</p><p>Her shock dissipates when a pitiful voice breaks through.</p><p>“What if it’s not her, Echo? What if I never get her back?” Clarke finally chokes out in between sobs.</p><p>Echo doesn’t have to ask who <em>her </em>is and feels her own heart drop at the words.</p><p>She knows she told Clarke she wouldn’t tell her everything would be okay, but this was just too much. Before she can even stop herself, the words tumble from her lips repeatedly over the sound of Clarke’s loud cries.</p><p>“It’s <em>her</em>, Clarke. It <em>has </em>to be her, and it will be.”</p><p>She’s still repeating <em>“It’s her” </em>to Clarke and herself when Raven and Jackson suddenly rush into the room, having heard the cries from a neighboring hallway.</p><p>-</p><p>Raven finally reaches the source of the cries a fraction of a second after Jackson. She pushes past the doctor, horrified at what she sees before her, and crouches down in front of a sobbing Clarke – paying no mind to the bile now coating the bottoms of her shoes.</p><p>She levels a questioning look at Echo, who’s got both arms wrapped around the blonde’s upper body in an uncharacteristic attempt at comfort and reassurance, only to see her friend turn her heads toward Jackson.</p><p>“Please tell me you got what you need to figure this out.” Echo’s eyes are sharp despite the pleading in her tone as she pins Jackson with her gaze.</p><p>Jackson finally manages to close his mouth, his discomfort and surprise at the sight of Clarke Griffin in such a state falling away as Echo’s words seem to spring him into action.</p><p>He nods vigorously as he watches Raven grasp the hands of a hiccupping Clarke and rise from her crouched position while simultaneously pulling the blonde to her feet.</p><p>“Clarke. Hey.” The mechanic finally manages to meet Clarke’s gaze. “We got what we needed for Jackson to run the tests, okay?” Raven soothes.</p><p>“We got back about fifteen minutes ago and already finished setting things up in medical,” Jackson adds reassuringly.</p><p>Clarke peels her eyes away from Raven to look at Jackson. “What kinds of tests, Jackson?” she asks, no trace of the previous tears in her voice.</p><p>Jackson, slightly thrown off at the sudden flip in disposition, tries for what he hopes is a comforting smile before saying, “Let’s get to medical so I can show you everything while I explain.”</p><p>Jackson, Echo, and Raven all slump in relief when the blonde just nods her head in agreement.</p><p>-</p><p>Echo had reluctantly offered to stay once they got to medical, but bolted, much to the amusement of the other two women, the second Clarke gave the okay for her to leave. Raven managed to catch something her friend had said about going to clean the floor during the woman’s mad dash from the room.</p><p>At least she, Niylah, and Gaia were all being supportive in a <em>useful </em>sort of way right now, Raven thought. Echo had informed her that Gaia and Niylah were out searching for herbs they thought could be helpful and plants they knew to be edible.</p><p>Raven would test the radiation levels of the plants herself if Jordan and Emori didn’t return in time. She and Jackson had agreed that all food and water needed to be tested before Clarke could consume anything. They weren’t taking any chances here if – no – <em>when </em>Clarke’s pregnancy was confirmed.</p><p>Raven was broken from her thoughts by the sound of Jackson ripping open the seams of some plastic baggies.</p><p>“So,” Jackson takes a breath before jumping into his plan. “We’re going to start with a quick blood draw – with the increased capabilities and sensitivity of this equipment, we can probably just get away with a pin prick, actually,” he trails off contemplatively at the realization.</p><p>Clarke eyes him with doubt. “A <em>pin prick</em>?” she asks, disbelief evident in her tone.</p><p>The doctor gives her a gentle smile as he holds up a small strip with his gloved hand for her to see.</p><p>“All I need is enough blood to deposit into the tiny compartment of this strip.” He watches as the blonde eyes the item in question.</p><p>Raven steps in to help him out. “One good thing about Josephine’s attempt at oblation and a society whose leadership revolved around hitting the genetic lottery is that their genetic testing equipment is <em>insane</em>,” Raven emphasizes with wide eyes, eyebrows almost shooting to her forehead.</p><p>Jackson grabbed Clarke’s hand during Raven’s explanation and ran an alcohol swab over the tip of her pointer finger before pricking it with a lancet and lightly squeezing to produce the desired amount of blood from the spot.</p><p>Clarke watches his every move closely, her brows scrunched together in concentration, but she didn’t resist or show any signs of distress. She looked more curious than anything else, he noted.</p><p>Raven, also now donning a pair of latex gloves, appeared behind Jackson and grabbed for the strip, turning to slide it into a small slot just beneath the monitor.</p><p>Clarke focused her attention on the monitor as several markers and quantities started to flash across the screen, recognizing terms like “hCG,” “blood glucose,” and several different vitamins along with things that would be screened for in a standard Comprehensive Metabolic Panel.</p><p>At the tray beside the bed where Clarke lay, Jackson was using a pair of tweezers to remove a hair from a comb and placing it on what appeared to be a slide for a microscope. Once the hair was covered with a familiar thin piece of glass, he repeated the same actions on another slide with a strand of hair from a hairbrush.</p><p><em>Madi’s hairbrush</em>, Clarke realized with a twinge in her chest.</p><p>A beeping sound a little behind Jackson drew Clarke’s attention back to a flashing monitor, although she couldn’t see <em>why </em>the monitor had been flashing because the back of Raven’s head covered the middle of the screen.</p><p>Clarke, suddenly feeling desperate as the pulse ox on her finger tracked her increasing heartbeat, struggled against the head of her bed to try and peak around Raven.</p><p>“What is it? What does it say, Raven? What’s wrong?” She demanded in one breath; her increasing panic clear in her voice.</p><p>Raven stares at the monitor for a beat before slowly turning to face Clarke, the brunette’s jaw slack, nostrils flared, and eyes wide in a way Clarke alarmingly interprets as fear.</p><p>Clarke felt her hands fumbling to find the lock on the side of the bed so she could drop the guard rail and go read the fucking results herself. She couldn’t take the silence any longer. She <em>needed </em>to know what was on that screen. What that hCG level read.</p><p>Raven, seemingly snapping out of her trance at Clarke’s frantic movements, moved to put a placating hand on her friend’s arm.</p><p>Clarke looked up from her frenzied task to see that Raven was now smiling despite her glassy eyes. Clarke could feel her heart skip a beat, the pulse ox picking up every single change.</p><p>“Congratulations, Clarke. You really did manage to get knocked up within 48 hours of arriving on a new planet.” Raven finished with a strangled laugh as watery brown orbs never strayed from stunned blue.</p><p><em>“Congratulations” </em>looped like a recording in Clarke’s mind as her eyes shifted back and forth between Raven’s, looking for any sign that the mechanic was joking or somehow mistaken.</p><p>She felt her breathing become shallow the longer she scanned her friend’s face and found nothing but shocked happiness in the girl’s expression.</p><p>Clarke felt her hand fly up and land over her mouth, a quiet sob sounding as her left hand automatically found its way to her midsection.</p><p>She’s <em>pregnant</em>. This is actually <em>real</em>.</p><p>She moves a shaky hand away from her face and looks down at the hand spread protectively over her lower belly. Her belly that has a <em>baby </em>in it. <em>Her </em>baby.</p><p><em>“Madi,” </em>she hears herself cry out – teary eyes still trained on her hand as she rubs at the material covering her flat stomach.</p><p>She’s about to collapse against the back of her bed and just let the sobs of joy and relief overtake her until she hears Jackson’s timid voice sound from nearby.</p><p>“That’s the next question we’re about to answer, Clarke.” He interrupts the moment to be the voice of reason, a role he so desperately wishes he didn’t have to play right now.</p><p>He visibly flinches when the blonde snaps her gaze up at him. Her wide eyes and dilated pupils giving her a crazed expression that has him rocking back on his heels with anxiety.</p><p>The doctor audibly sighs in relief when Raven is the one to step in the way of Clarke’s line of sight as the mechanic grabs both of the slides he’s prepared from the tray and shoves them in wider slots beneath her monitor.</p><p>He’s even more grateful for the mechanic when she breaks the silence after the brunette’s head could no longer block Clarke’s eyes from the doctor.</p><p>“We had Miller collect DNA from your hunky doctor/baby daddy’s room while Indra collected,” Raven pauses to clear her throat, “ – Madi’s hairbrush from the farmhouse.”</p><p>“The DNA sequencing programs these computers have is amazing, Clarke,” Jackson adds helpfully. “It’ll be able to tell us almost everything in a matter of minutes.”</p><p>Clarke’s expression is no longer dangerous, only curious and calculated. Her eyes are squinting slightly, and her forehead is wrinkled ever-so-lightly as he feels like he can finally breathe again when she looks at him.</p><p>“You have my DNA, Cillian’s, and – and Madi’s,” she stutters, “and obviously that can tell us if she – she really <em>was</em> ours,” Clarke forces out.</p><p>“But how does that tell us whether <em>this</em>,” Clarke points down at her belly, “is Madi or not?” Her eyes harden once again as she looks to the doctor who currently holds the answers to Clarke’s entire universe in his hands.</p><p>It’s times like these where she misses her mom the most.</p><p>Not that she doesn’t trust Jackson’s skill and care for her well-being, but he’ll never be able to measure up to her mother’s thoroughness where Clarke is concerned.</p><p>Where Clarke and <em>her baby</em> are concerned, she mentally corrects.</p><p>She should be here right now, pouring over the monitor next to Raven as she stretches one arm back to hold Clarke’s hand in her own.</p><p>Maybe if Clarke closes her eyes, she thinks, she could pretend her mom actually is standing next to Raven. Maybe she can pretend the older woman is agonizing over every result as it comes and is getting ready to tell Clarke everything she wants – everything she <em>needs </em>– to hear.</p><p>She opens her eyes when she feels the weight of a hand on top of hers. Her eyes drift up to lock on to Raven’s – no Abby in sight. Another reminder of the devastating losses she’s suffered to end up where she is now.</p><p>Her fist balls at her shirt again. She knows <em>this</em> isn’t a loss she can manage to survive as her eyes slide past Raven to track Jackson’s movements.</p><p>Jackson, as if sensing he’s being watched, turns and meets Clarke’s gaze head-on. He quickly glances at the progress on the monitor before deciding he has time to approach Clarke’s bedside and explain a few things.</p><p>“How familiar are you with amniocentesis, Clarke?” The doctor asks, surprising the blonde with a question of his own instead of an answer to hers.</p><p>Her whole face tightens into a scowl as she replies. “It’s a test used for pregnant women,” she eyes him carefully, “I know it involves inserting a needle into the uterus,” she finishes with a warning edge to her voice.</p><p>Her scowl remains firmly in place as her right arm joins her left in covering her abdomen – a clear sign that she wasn’t letting him anywhere near her uterus at this moment.</p><p>Jackson raises his hands in surrender to show he’s not a threat.</p><p>“It can be used to confirm paternity, detect certain abnormalities or illnesses, gender, and lots of other things,” Jackson explains, “but it also carries a small risk for miscarriage.”</p><p>The doctor looks at her seriously, watching the color drain from her face as her arms squeeze almost imperceptibly at her midsection.</p><p>Jackson sighs, trying to think of the best way to explain this.</p><p>“Back before the first bombs, geneticists were working on a better way to separate the DNA of a fetus from that of its mother.”</p><p>At the blonde’s confused expression and Raven’s curious look, Jackson pushes forward.</p><p>“It was found that at <em>least </em>ten percent of fetal DNA is present within the mother’s bloodstream during pregnancy.” Jackson pauses to take in the bewildered looks of both women; he tries to bite back an amused smile at the sight.</p><p>“With the genetic testing programs we now have at our disposal, we can use the DNA from Madi’s hairbrush and compare it to the fetal DNA found in the blood sample you provided,” he tilts his head towards the blonde before him.</p><p>“That comparison alone will be enough to determine whether or not the DNA is from the same source. And, if an exact match is determined, it will complete the fetal DNA sequence by mapping and storing the other ninety percent or so of Madi’s DNA the program now has access to.” Jackson is grinning from ear-to-ear just thinking about the advances in medicine he’s bore witness to.</p><p>Raven, on the other hand, just gives an unimpressed wave of her hand as she turns back to Clarke.</p><p>“The accuracy rate is 99.999%, Clarke,” Raven adds with a knowing look. “In less than one minute, we’ll know for sure if your DNA is a match to Madi’s. Another couple of minutes after that and we’ll know if baby Griffin’s DNA here is the same as Madi’s.”</p><p>Another beep can be heard from behind the three just as Raven finishes speaking.</p><p>Jackson beats Raven to the machine this time, Raven having been stopped in her tracks by a tugging at her hand. The brunette complies with the silent request, turning back to give Clarke the brightest smile she can muster as she squeezes her friend's hand in solidarity.</p><p>Clarke, however, doesn’t seem to notice – her attention being completely on Jackson as he wheels the cart towards her bed.</p><p>When the screen is finally within her sight, she sees three familiar names and faces before her with an unavoidable flash of “<strong><em>99.999%</em></strong> <strong><em>Paternal Match</em></strong>” visible right beneath Cillian’s generated image.</p><p>Her eyes move to the provided image of herself in the middle of the screen, the words “<strong><em>99.999% Maternal Match</em></strong>” bold and clear right beneath her own name.</p><p>She breathes deeply as her gaze shifts to the last face on the screen. Despite the onslaught of tears that cloud her vision, she’d recognize that face under any circumstances.</p><p><em>Her baby girl</em>. God, that thought held more meaning now than ever, she realized.</p><p>Clarke sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of her child. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to tear her eyes away from the image, but the flash beneath it was just too tempting not to spare a glance.</p><p>“<strong><em>99.999% Parental Match</em></strong>” blinked continuously back at Clarke. There was something else under Madi’s name that wasn’t present under her box or Cillian’s.</p><p>“<strong><em>Father: Cillian Marks.</em></strong></p><p><strong><em>Mother: Clarke Griffin.</em></strong>”</p><p>There it was in bold blue text. <em>Mother: Clarke Griffin</em>. Clarke’s eyes just kept bouncing between Madi’s photo and that one little line, tears streaming steadily down the blonde’s cheeks as everything else around her seemed to fade from view.</p><p>She wasn’t even sure how much time had passed when she heard the sound of another beep – her eyes interrupted from their task by a new window popping up onto the screen.</p><p>Clarke registered Raven lurching forward to click something on the window, the screen flashing with new images of the same person.</p><p>Clarke didn’t need Raven or Jackson to read the results aloud.</p><p>There, right before her very eyes, were dual images of Madi hovering above two animated double helices that merged together and overlapped perfectly. The words “<strong><em>Fetal Match Confirmed</em></strong>” resting just below the animation.</p><p>Clarke barely felt Raven’s arms around her or Jackson’s hand gently shaking her shoulder. Their shouts of “<em>Congratulations</em>” and “<em>It’s her</em>” falling on deaf ears.</p><p>She dropped her head back against Raven’s arm and heard the first of many wails echo through the room as she found herself sobbing with unbridled joy and unbelievable relief. Her two companions decided to step away after a few moments to give the expectant mother some privacy.</p><p>The <em>Commander of Death </em>was bringing new life into the world – the last new life this world would ever see.</p><p>
  <em>“You’re so special, Madi; I knew it from the day I met you…”</em>
</p><p>Clarke felt the biggest smile light up her face despite all the tears. She looked down, hands still resting over her stomach, and whispered the still familiar words.</p><p>“You’re <em>so </em>special, Madi; I knew it from the day I met you,” she pauses before adding, “You will always have me. I will <em>always </em>protect you.”</p><p>A foreign thought collides with a familiar feeling as she confidently says, “<em>Nothing</em> compares to how much mommy loves you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Familiar Faces In Different Places</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson lays down the law with Clarke as her first exam ensues.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After several minutes to herself to process the information and her emotions, Jackson and Raven made their way back over towards Clarke. Jackson’s solemn expression and the determined set of Raven’s jaw threatened to put Clarke’s profound relief on edge.</p><p>Raven, spotting the uncertainty in Clarke’s eyes, rushed forward to explain.</p><p>“I’m going to head to Bardo for a bit to check on the rest of the group. See how everything is going there and, ya know, bail their asses out with my invaluable expertise.” Raven finished with a wink and her familiar cocky grin, but it did little to settle the worry starting to gnaw at Clarke’s stomach.</p><p>Clarke didn’t like how silent Jackson was. She didn’t like the nervous shifting of his eyes. And she sure as hell didn’t like being separated from anyone else again while feeling left in the dark.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Clarke, I’m not them. I’m much smarter.” Raven shoots a smirk to Jackson who only averts his eyes to the ground next to him.</p><p>Raven huffs exasperatedly, her hands finding her hips in defiance. “Look, guys, everything is going to be fine. We were in Sanctum for hours, but we hadn’t even been gone from Earth for half an hour. It’s the same scenario in Bardo only in reverse. What we think is taking forever is just a few minutes for them.”</p><p>“Then why are you leaving to check on them?” Clarke challenges, eyeing Raven suspiciously.</p><p>“She’s checking on them for me, Clarke,” Jackson answers honestly.</p><p>Jackson heaves a sigh as he finally meets Clarke’s curious gaze. “Nate and I decided we wanted to try and be a parent to one of the embryos, should what <em>The Judge</em> said prove to be true.”</p><p>Jackson gestures to the screen that was still covered with the information confirming Clarke’s baby actually <em>is</em> Madi. “Given what we’ve just seen here, there’s no doubt left in my mind that those embryos are there and alive.”</p><p>Clarke, still digesting what Jackson said about he and Miller essentially claiming a kid, only looked to Raven to help fill in the gaps.</p><p>Raven places a gentle hand on Jackson’s shoulder while addressing Clarke. “He’s worried about the time dilation between here and Bardo affecting our ability to monitor the embryos, so I’m going to take a look and see how we can go about moving them here. <em>Safely</em>,” she emphasizes for Jackson’s benefit.</p><p>Jackson smiles softly at Raven before turning back to Clarke. “And I’m going to stay here and complete a thorough exam with you along with testing radiation levels of the water and food sources so we can get you nourished and hydrated,” the doctor says with astonishing authority in his tone.</p><p>“Thank you, Jackson. I don’t know what else to say other than I am grateful to have you as my, as <em>our</em>, doctor.” Clarke casts her eyes down again with an easy smile on her lips.</p><p>Raven now understands what the hell people always meant when they said pregnant women had a certain glow about them. She hasn’t seen Clarke smile so freely or easily since – well, <em>ever</em>.</p><p>It’s why she made Jackson agree to stay and continue to check Clarke and baby G over in exchange for her going to Bardo to assist the others. But Clarke didn’t need to know that particular little tidbit of information.</p><p>Clarke spoke before Raven could officially make her departure.</p><p>“I guess congratulations are in order for you as well, Jackson,” the blonde smiled at the doctor. “Your child will be very lucky to have you and Miller as parents.” She finishes with a sincerity she could tell meant the world to the man in front of her.</p><p>Taking the sentimental moment between Clarke and Jackson as her cue to skidaddle, Raven called out a “<em>See ya</em>” with an abrupt wave before maneuvering her way out the door and back towards the carnage where Earth’s stone still resided.</p><p>She let out a long exhale as she realized yet another Anomaly stone needed moving at some point before popping on her helmet and crouching to the floor to fumble for the code to Bardo.</p><p>-</p><p>Once it was just the two of them, Clarke couldn’t help but see Jackson in a new light. Every move he made felt different – restricted, somehow – like he had to fight off distractions at every turn. She could certainly relate to that. She now wondered if that’s how the others saw her once she became a parent.</p><p>Madi had constantly been on her mind in some capacity regardless of what she was doing, who she was with, or where she was. She watched Jackson with sympathetic eyes as he scrolled through the results of her blood test. Clarke knew what it was like to have to use distractions to try and bury the worry. She could only hope that the three embryos really were okay. If they were, she knows damn well Raven Reyes will work her usual magic and find a way to get them here.</p><p>Clarke’s thoughts are interrupted when Jackson spins on his stool, hands loosely folded in between his bent knees, and shoots her a serious look. <em>Back to business</em>.</p><p>“Some of your vitamin levels are a bit low along with your iron. I brought some supplements from Sanctum that should take care of that,” he rambles. “You’re also dehydrated, which is certainly something I want to address ASAP, so I asked Raven to get Echo to test the radiation levels in the water during her absence.”</p><p>That last part had Clarke doing a double-take at the man.</p><p>“We have night blood,” she cut in with narrowing eyes.</p><p>“The embryo is…”</p><p>“<em>Madi</em>.”</p><p>Jackson rocks back on his stool at the warning in the blonde’s voice. He tries to recover enough to form a coherent response, but another voice cuts in first.</p><p>“Please refer to her as Madi, Jackson.” She whispers it so softly that he has to strain to hear it; no trace of any of the previous anger or venom he was expecting.</p><p>When he meets her eyes again, the desperation he sees has an apology tumbling from his lips before he even knows what's happening.</p><p>“I’m sorry – I didn’t want to make any assumptions or upset you in any way.” Jackson couldn’t manage to hold her gaze any longer.</p><p>“Is there still room for doubt, Jackson?” Clarke asks softly.</p><p>Jackson shakes his head so forcefully he immediately starts to feel a headache come on.</p><p>“<em>No</em>. No, the tests proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt,” he answers quickly.</p><p>Clarke’s voice was barely above a whisper as she trains her eyes down at her hands in her lap. “Then there’s no need to call her anything else when she already has an identity.” Her voice suddenly booms with confidence as she continues. “She’s not some nameless, faceless embryo we know nothing about, Jackson. She’s Madi.”</p><p>Intense blue eyes lock on his brown as he hears the determination laced in every word. She <em>needs </em>the reminder that this child is Madi. Realization washes over him, and he knows she's trying to establish and maintain that connection for herself more than anything else.</p><p>The doctor couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He’d spent years watching expectant mothers hesitate to form a connection with their babies. Not that he could blame them, of course, with the fear and stigma that always seemed to accompany pregnancy back on The Ark and all. It was just nice to finally witness something different; something more hopeful.</p><p>The smile still dances on his lips as he jumps back into medical mode. “Raven checked the logs on Eligius IV and was able to use them to calculate a date here.”</p><p>Clarke just watches as Jackson turns away from her to face the monitor, a small window popping up over her results with the click of a button.</p><p>“It looks like today is March 28<sup>th</sup>, which makes sense with everything blooming green even though it’s still pretty cold,” Jackson rattles as his brows knit together while he scrolls down the window.</p><p>“My next question is when exactly did your, uh, <em>interaction</em> occur?” He asks carefully, eyes never leaving the screen in front of him.</p><p>Clarke leans back against the pillow nestled behind her and closes her eyes, a finger popping up for each day that runs through her brain.</p><p>“Eleven days on Sanctum, one on Nakara and Bardo combined, and then one split between here and Bardo,” she mutters, “so I guess about fourteen days counting today? It was our second night in Sanctum,” she finishes with an uncertain look as Jackson finally turns back towards her.</p><p>“And the first day of your last period?” He prods encouragingly with the tilt of his head in her direction.</p><p>“125 years ago.” Clarke answers dryly, an exasperated tone to her voice.</p><p>Jackson manages a chuckle before turning back to the monitor. “Okay, so, counting the day you descended into the bunker, we were back on Earth for 16 days before we went into cryosleep on that last day. Use that as your frame of reference.”</p><p>Clarke feels her eyes squeezing shut again as she fights back images of the prisoners landing, finding her mother unconscious, and witnessing her mother’s heart stop while she simultaneously tries to separate all of those fateful days. They all seem to run together despite the startling clarity of the memories.</p><p>Her eyes fly open when she has an answer. “12 days before we went into cryo. That was the first day of my last period,” she says with a definitive nod of her head.</p><p>She remembers that day well. It was the day Octavia announced they were marching to Shallow Valley to wage war against the prisoners. They had discovered the sand worms in the worst possible way that very same night. She also remembers having cursed the timing of her uterus for daring to make matters worse for her in the middle of a fucking desert.</p><p>Jackson hums in thought as he scrolls. “That would’ve put you at exactly 14 days after the start of your last period when you had your <em>interaction</em> – peak ovulation time for most women,” he adds as an afterthought while continuing to piece the timeline together in his mind.</p><p>Clarke snorts. “You don’t say?” She adds, sarcasm dripping from each word.</p><p>Jackson just grins as he finally seems to pinpoint what he’s been after. He leans closer to the screen as he speaks, his eyes squinting in focus.</p><p>“That puts you at just about four weeks along, since we count from the first day of your last period.” He pauses to scroll a minute more. “So that puts your due date around the end of November. I’m going to give you a window for the last week of November instead of an exact day.” He looks to the blonde with a quirked eyebrow, her ensuing quick nod being all the agreement the doctor needs.</p><p>Clarke exhales a breath to try and dispel the horrific thoughts that threaten to assault her. November is a cold month. <em>Unforgivingly cold</em>. That means she’ll be giving birth in the winter, which already has her mind planning and preparing a course of action for the upcoming warmer months.</p><p>She could do this. She could give birth to Madi in the winter and keep her warm. Keep her safe. She would keep the vow she made in front of <em>not Lexa </em>and all her friends.</p><p>A cuff being wrapped around her upper arm snaps her out of her thoughts. She looks down in time to see Jackson in the process of taking her blood pressure.</p><p>“Stay still for me for a minute,” he says as the cuff starts squeezing unbearably tight around her bicep.</p><p>“128/84,” he announces when she finally feels a release from the stinging pressure.</p><p>Jackson eyes her with ill-concealed concern. “Definitely a little high for my liking,” he sighs. “I brought something back that I think will help with that, but I want to hold off for the moment until I know just <em>how </em>effective it is,” he finishes with a pointed look. The last thing they wanted was for her pressure to drop too low too quickly.</p><p>Clarke tries to reign in the panic she was starting to feel. Panicking certainly wouldn’t help matters for her and Madi here. It’s probably why her reading was high in the first place. She wasn’t exactly the most easy-going person leading a calm, quiet life.</p><p>Jackson releases another heavy sigh as his eyes drop to the ground. “I know you’re not going to like what I’m about to say,” he murmurs quickly, “but I know you’ll agree because it’s what’s best for your baby. For <em>Madi</em>,” he adds with deliberate forcefulness.</p><p>
  <em>Well played, Jackson; well played.</em>
</p><p>“I’m treating this as a high-risk pregnancy, Clarke. You’re a nightblood; a synthetic nightblood at that, and we have no experience with nightbloods and reproduction, so I don’t want to take any chances,” he explains. “And with your blood pressure reading just now in addition to the dehydration, I feel even more confident about this plan of action. I want you on tentative bed rest for now.”</p><p>Clarke looks as if she’s about to protest, but it seems to die on her lips as Jackson closes out the calendar window and leaves her with a clear view of the screen in its place. The screen that now has dual images of Madi staring back at the blonde.</p><p>Her breath hitches in her throat, but she still manages the lightest whisper.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>She’s almost convinced Jackson didn’t hear her until she sees him turn around, his eyes impossibly soft and a smile that was just as genuine as it was gentle adorning his face.</p><p>“Okay,” he mimics in agreement. He lays a reassuring hand on her shoulder before delivering his instructions. “You stay here. I’m going to check on those radiation levels and see what Niylah and Gaia have managed to collect. I should be back in less than an hour.”</p><p>He starts to head towards the door before something catches his eye. <em>Right</em>. <em>Almost forgot.</em></p><p>Clarke focuses on him, a loose fist hovering in front of her mouth as he approaches.</p><p>“Miller said to give this to you.” Jackson eases the bag into Clarke’s empty lap.</p><p>“He was in charge of checking Sanctum’s doctor’s room,” Jackson explains upon seeing Clarke’s confusion.</p><p>He watches her eyes widen before she gives him a knowing look; a small, forced smile tightens across her face in an effort to show her gratitude.</p><p>Before he can turn to again to leave, he hears Clarke call out to him.</p><p>“Hey Jackson?” Her voice floats despite its clipped undertone.</p><p>He just spins on his heel, forehead wrinkling in concern as his eyes give her a quick once over.</p><p>The blonde looks away from his gaze. “Could you maybe change the screen back so that it shows the parental DNA results?” She finishes with hesitation.</p><p>Jackson, relieved that it was a simple request and not a medical issue, just smiles before making his way back to the monitor next to her bed.</p><p>With one simple click and a parting grin in her direction, Jackson turns and finally exits medical – leaving Clarke alone to examine the images before her.</p><p>-</p><p>Clarke cranes her head as she listens for any remaining trace of Jackson’s retreating footsteps. When she realizes he’s far enough away, she immediately rips at the Velcro strips of the bag in her lap and turns it over to empty its contents onto her thighs.</p><p>She can’t hide the disappointment she feels when only two papers flutter listlessly down to rest on her legs – the contents of the pages not facing her. She reaches for the slightly wrinkled paper first and gasps as she turns it over to find the familiar detailed drawings of her people. Of her. Of her daughter. <em>Their </em>daughter, as it turns out.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>Clarke couldn’t help but to appreciate the detail in the sketches. The good doctor certainly had skill, and not just when it came to drawing. Clarke could feel the blood rush to her cheeks at that thought, but she couldn’t help it. It hadn’t been lost on her that her night with Cillian was the first night she’d been with a man since Finn.</p><p>Let’s just say that even if she hadn’t just endured a 6-year-long dry spell, her world <em>definitely </em>would’ve still been rocked that night. Even she couldn’t be too surprised that she ended up getting pregnant after all of, well, <em>that</em>.</p><p>She almost smiled at the thought. Before the whole paralytic dart, throat slitting, and body snatching fiasco, it had actually been one of the best nights she’d had in a long time. Clarke <em>never </em>let loose like that, but something just took over her that evening at the party and suddenly she found herself being spun and dipped around the dance floor without a care in the world. She hadn’t felt that free in years – especially after realizing her friends weren’t returning to Earth at the five-year mark.</p><p>She had told herself she’d never think of that particular night again after everything that happened afterwards, but as she looked at Madi’s image to the right of the screen she knew that the memory of that evening would be something she now cherished for the rest of her life.</p><p>Sure, her life almost ended, but Madi’s life was saved by finally beginning. That was something she’d be forever grateful for. Something for which she had the man to the left of the screen to thank.</p><p>Clarke looked back to her lap and carefully turned over the other paper. She was met with a breathtakingly clear photo of the incredibly handsome man who’d fathered her child. She ran a finger over the image of his face as she drank in his features.</p><p>He had hazel eyes, not light brown like she initially remembered, but what caught her attention most was the familiarity in some of his features. Features she’d spent years looking at despite only having known him for mere days.</p><p>Clarke set the photo back on her lap as she pulled the monitor as close to her bedside as it would get. She stared at the image of Madi – studying every last detail of the girl’s features like she was looking at her for the first time. In a way, it was the first time. Blue eyes weren’t <em>just </em>blue eyes anymore; they were <em>Clarke’s </em>blue eyes and crazy long lashes. <em>Her</em> blue eyes in <em>her </em>shape with <em>his </em>spacing between them.</p><p>That was <em>her </em>nose, only slightly wider to accommodate the difference in eye spacing Madi had clearly inherited from her father. That was <em>his </em>forehead, only slightly narrower around the edges near Madi’s ears because <em>his </em>forehead was set against the small, rounded shape of <em>Clarke’s </em>face.</p><p><em>Her</em> full cheeks, that dimpled slightly with every large smile, covered <em>his</em> cheekbones. Cheekbones that ran out towards <em>her</em> jawline and met in the middle to greet the small indentation of <em>her</em> chin. <em>His</em> plump lips took the shape of <em>Clarke’s</em> mouth in a smile that was distinctly <em>his</em> despite <em>her</em> dimples being evident on either side.</p><p>The unmistakable shape of <em>her</em> ears was almost exact until it trailed down to <em>his</em> attached earlobes. Clarke felt a hand come up to feel at her own earlobe – an earlobe that allowed her to grasp it between her thumb and forefinger and give it a good tug. Something Cillian, and therefore Madi, couldn’t easily do with their smaller attached lobes.</p><p>That was <em>his</em> widow’s peak hairline that lead back to a head full of <em>his</em> thick, dark hair. Hair that had a wave to it that he didn’t seem to possess. Hair that saw a curl to the tendrils surrounding the little girl’s face that so obviously rivaled the blonde curls framing Clarke’s own.</p><p>Clarke ran a hand through her own short waves before pulling the hand itself back within her eyesight to examine it. She had several memories of this exact hand – slender, short fingers and all – holding tight to hers only days ago.</p><p>Clarke didn’t need to look at the image of Madi again to know how seamlessly their DNA seemed to blend together to create her perfect daughter. She didn’t know how she’d missed it all this time. Everything just seemed so <em>obvious </em>now. Like a puzzle that had finally found its missing pieces.</p><p>
  <em>“He’s cute.”</em>
</p><p>Madi had said it so nonchalantly and with such a hint of sly encouragement that Clarke had felt herself blush in the moment at the implication. The impish grin that her daughter had worn almost betrayed the girl’s actual age, making her look every bit the devious 12-year-old that she had been instead of the fearsome <em>Heda </em>she was expected to be at the time.</p><p>Madi had unknowingly approved of her own father. At least approved of his looks, anyway. She’d even meant to encourage Clarke with those two words – something Madi had <em>never </em>done before. Not even with the few stories of couples like Harper and Monty she’d heard over the years. The girl had known how much Bellamy meant to her mother, but she never tried to push the envelope by turning it into something Clarke hadn’t intended it to be.</p><p>Madi never seemed to have any notions of some great love story for Clarke. She’d always just talked about everyone like they’d all one day be a big, giant family. In the child’s eyes, that’s what they were always meant to be.</p><p>Until she came across her future father in such close proximity to the woman who’d always been her mother.</p><p><em>Talk about irony</em>.</p><p>The thought that Madi had approved of Cillian in some way put Clarke at ease. She knew her daughter would have that memory of him again someday, and she wanted it to be a good one. After all, it would be the only one the girl would ever have of the man. At least Clarke hadn’t made a terrible choice. The guy seemed honorable enough in what he was trying to do, he had formidable artistic abilities, and medicine seemed to come so naturally to him. And did she mention how easy he was on the eyes? He was definitely no slouch in that department.</p><p>The relief she felt at not having <em>totally</em> screwed this up had tears collecting in her eyes despite the easy smile that graced her face. If anyone were to walk in right now, she’d simply blame it on hormones. She’d never felt this wide range of emotions before in such an open display for others to see. It <em>had </em>to be the hormones.</p><p>That thought alone only made the tears flow faster with yet another reminder of how <em>real </em>this all was. It almost felt like a dream where she’d soon wake up in their little home in Shallow Valley, the girl still softly snoozing away in the bed right next to hers as it was once again just the two of them against the world.</p><p>Instead, the child was nestled away safely in her womb surrounded by a family Madi had once only ever been able to dream of. A family that would be a prominent fixture in the little girl’s life from the very beginning this time around.</p><p>Maybe there was something more behind the idea of fate and destiny after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this took longer than expected to post. I've had to do some traveling, and it threw my writing schedule off big time. Another big thank you to my readers and reviewers - you guys rock! </p><p>I hope to have the next chapter up sometime early next week at the latest. I intend for this to be a rather lengthy story as I'd like to not rush through the incubation/pregnancy stage. I also want to make it so we can see the kids being raised - at least up to a certain point. It always leaves room for sequels should there be an interest. Hopefully you're all cool with that and can bear with me. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Grey Sphere of Wonder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jackson finally concludes his first exam with Clarke as new questions arise.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clarke searched the deceased doctor’s bag one last time before carefully tucking away the pages that contained Cillian’s sketches and his Sanctum staff directory photo. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed with her comparing Madi’s features to the man’s and her own, but she did know that Jackson would probably be back any moment. At least he’d better be.</p><p>The longer he was gone, the more worry started to seep into Clarke’s every pore.</p><p>What if something was wrong? What if the radiation levels in the plants and water were too high to safely be consumed? What if the medications Jackson had brought back from Sanctum were unusable?</p><p>Well, this certainly wasn’t doing her blood pressure any favors.</p><p>Clarke squirmed a bit before inhaling another deep breath in through her nose as she let her eyes fall shut and leaned her head back against the pillow. She had to think of something, <em>anything</em>, to distract herself from Jackson’s ever-prolonging absence.</p><p>Her eyes snapped open and her hands seemed to have a mind of their own as she found herself reaching into the bag again; her fingers feeling for and locating the page of sketches with ease.</p><p>Clarke had felt infuriated, petrified, betrayed, and <em>so</em> stupid the first time she spotted these drawings. Because <em>of course </em>the one time she’d so naively let her guard down had led to yet another agenda that only spelled trouble for her.</p><p>She had seen Madi’s likeness on the page that night and remembered feeling her jaw clench so tight she thought it might snap.</p><p>Now here she was looking at the very same page of sketches with nothing short of admiration. It was like her eyes were starving and she simply couldn’t get her fill of the clean lines and subtle details woven into the images.</p><p>She knew she would have to preserve this piece of paper; she <em>needed </em>to keep it safe. Clarke wanted something tangible that she could give to Madi one day. Something that was proof of the girl’s father’s skill and talent – proof that he’d seen Madi with his own eyes at some point.</p><p>Clarke needed her daughter to one day see the child’s likeness as Cillian had seen it. She knew just how important that would be down the line. It would likely be the only “gift” from the man that Clarke could give to Madi.</p><p>She wasn’t sure if there were any more sketches in the man’s apartment, but she knew she wanted every single one in existence.</p><p>She wanted her little girl to have it all – even if Clarke didn’t know the stories behind the drawings or the faces peering back at her from the pages. Actually, it was <em>because</em> Clarke didn’t know those stories or recognize those faces that she needed the sketches so badly.</p><p>Clarke Griffin, the practical, calculating, revered former leader of the human race had a one-night stand with a man she barely knew. A man who’d unknowingly contributed half of her child’s DNA that night. A child she already knew to be far too inquisitive for her own good. The same child who enjoyed nothing more than a watered-down true story every night before bed.</p><p>Clarke didn’t really have any stories of Cillian to offer Madi, but she could provide the next best thing. Cillian’s pictures, much like the ones Clarke would draw, told their own stories; and she needed for her daughter to at least have that much of the mysterious man.</p><p>Even if Clarke had to make up the stories behind the sketches herself.</p><p>It wasn’t Madi’s fault her mother knew next to nothing about the girl’s father. Clarke would do <em>anything </em>to ensure her baby didn’t endure anymore pain than she’d already had during her “loaner” lifetime over the last 6 years.</p><p>Cillian Marks would be one of the greatest humans to have ever graced Sanctum…regardless of whether or not that was actually true. Talented, intelligent, driven, brave, compassionate – all things he certainly had to be as a red-blooded carrier working with the Children of Gabriel. Clarke would take that little nugget of knowledge and run with it for the rest of her days.</p><p>Or until she learned more of the truth about the man. Whichever came first.</p><p><em>The truth</em>. That was something Clarke found herself wondering more and more about since she’d discovered she’d be sharing such a permanent connection with the virtual stranger. Even though he was gone, he’d still play a part in their daughter’s life at some point.</p><p>Clarke already knows Madi will ask about her father one day. Knowing her little girl, it’ll be sooner than the mother would like. Madi was every bit as intuitive and precocious as Clarke had been as a child – something Abby reminded the blonde about every chance she had during their all-too-brief reunion.</p><p><em>Her mother</em>. Yet another person who’d been robbed of witnessing Madi’s impending childhood.</p><p>Clarke wiped at the stray tear that had escaped as she redoubled her efforts to focus on the paper she still held.</p><p>She could feel the muscles in her forehead protest as she once again furrowed her brow in concentration. Cillian was at <em>least </em>in his early 30s – probably about a decade or so older than the blonde herself. He had to have some sort of history…some untold background story that had led to him becoming a spy for the C.o.G.</p><p>Weren’t people his age normally married with children? Her parents had her right before they hit their 30s, but both still managed to be near the top of their respective fields by the time Clarke was born. Cillian also had the added advantage of more sustainable resources – a luxury not available to even the most privileged on The Ark.</p><p>There’s no possible way a man <em>that </em>good looking in such an esteemed profession hadn’t had his pick of women at some point. Clarke thought back to her time in his little apartment: one dresser, one closet, and no trace of a woman, or even more than one man, had been present.</p><p>She knew this was going to bug her for a while, and she certainly wasn’t going to drop the issue, but she quickly tucked the paper back into the bag and straightened herself on the gurney as Jackson <em>finally </em>reappeared in the room.</p><p>Brandishing a tablet Clarke didn’t remember him having before…</p><p>-</p><p>Not looking up from the screen he held to see Clarke’s hesitant expression, Jackson continued pulling another cart behind him.</p><p>A cart that appeared to contain a couple pitchers of water, several types of plants she recognized as edible from her time in the valley, and even more types of berries, much to her relief.</p><p>Clarke had to fight the urge to cross her fingers.</p><p>
  <em>Please be good news. Please be good news.</em>
</p><p>Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long as Jackson finally looked up at her with a familiar warm smile before giving her the good news.</p><p>“Okay, so,” the doctor clapped his hands together, “it seems that the Earth’s recovery period isn’t all just for show,” he grinned.</p><p>Jackson gestured to the cart behind him with outstretched hands as he beamed with pride.</p><p>“We have absolutely no issues with irradiated food – whether it be vegetation, fish, or animal meat – it’s all safe for consumption. Even to us mere red-blooded mortals,” he finished with a wiggle to his eyebrows that made Clarke giggle.</p><p>Clarke’s chest lightened immensely and, for the first time since their group lunch at the farmhouse, she registered a growl ripping ferociously through her stomach.</p><p>She felt herself starting to smile as she looked down and rubbed a placating hand across her belly - the simple action causing her chest to tighten again at the realization.</p><p>That meal at the farmhouse had been her <em>last</em>. She hadn’t had so much as a ration bar or even a simple glass of water since then. Eating and drinking had been the last thing on her mind as she hopped planets, searched for her friends, and then worried endlessly for her daughter.</p><p>The same daughter who was now relying on her as the baby’s sole source of nutrition, and Clarke hasn’t bothered to eat for <em>days</em>.</p><p>
  <em>No no no no. </em>
</p><p>The vitals monitor by the head of her bed started to beep as the sound of her alarmingly increased heart rate started to fill the room.</p><p>Jackson was by her side in an instant, all signs of his previous cheer replaced with worry at the sight of Clarke’s panic stricken face.</p><p>The doctor wasted no time grabbing for a bag of Sodium Chloride from his Sanctum cart and hanging it on a nearby IV pole before attaching a butterfly needle to an IV cannula.</p><p>He made a move for Clarke’s arm as he explained. “I’m going to get you started on an IV solution to help speed the process up since you’ve lost a lot of fluids. This is <em>just </em>to help things along, Clarke, you and Madi aren’t in the danger zone right now. I need you to know that.”</p><p>Clarke attempted to slow her breathing and nodded before she felt the pinch of a needle entering her vein. She spared a glance at the clear solution that made its way down the tube and into her arm before turning her attention back to Jackson.</p><p>“I haven’t eaten since Raven made that lunch back in Sanctum.” Jackson could hear the hitch in the blonde’s voice as she tried to calm herself down.</p><p>Clarke watched as the man backed away from her and turned to grab something from the cart. She was soon greeted with a large bowl of shimmering green and a warped metal fork.</p><p>Despite the confusion in Clarke’s eyes, Jackson was relieved when the blonde took the bowl without question.</p><p>“Niylah was kind enough to quickly mix a little water with some of the sweeter berries into a sort of dressing. All safe to eat, I promise,” he concluded in a soft voice.</p><p><em>That explained the sheen to the normally dull greens</em>, she thought.</p><p>He smiled brightly as he watched Clarke’s eyes widen when she took the first bite, the delighted grin taking over her face had his own stomach threatening to rumble.</p><p>“Good?” he asked with a knowing smirk.</p><p>Blonde waves bobbed up and down as Clarke nodded in response, already having quickly shoved the next forkful of food into her awaiting mouth.</p><p>Jackson had to bite down on his lip to keep from making a joke about Clarke slowing down or choking. The last thing the doctor wanted was to unintentionally curtail the pregnant woman’s appetite – especially this early into the first trimester with the foundation of fetal development hanging in the balance.</p><p>It felt like he had just turned his attention back to his tablet only to be drawn away from his task by the clearing of a throat and the welcomed sight of an empty bowl balanced between Clarke’s thighs.</p><p>Clarke grinned sheepishly at the doctor as he reached forward to grab the bowl and place it back on the cart. Her grin quickly morphed into a grateful smile as he transferred a full glass of water into her open hand.</p><p>As Clarke gulped down the water, Jackson used the ensuing silence to rattle off some information.</p><p>“The radiation levels here are actually much better than they are on Sanctum, which would make sense with the instability of that nuclear reactor. But that’s not the only good news that I have…” Jackson purposely waited as Clarke handed him her now empty glass.</p><p>Seeing that he had her full attention, he continued. “Raven connected this tablet wirelessly to the computer’s mainframe, which allowed me to review more of the DNA results obtained from your blood sample earlier.”</p><p>Clarke’s left hand found its way back to her satiated stomach as the other clutched at her bedsheets in anticipation; her eyes never leaving Jackson’s face as he read from the tablet.</p><p>“The program is designed to spot all abnormalities at any stage of development and show any differences that may be present in otherwise identical DNA sequences. Your baby has the expected 46 chromosomes – an even split having occurred between your DNA and that of Madi’s father. And, of course, the telltale female double-X chromosomes were evident.” Jackson couldn’t contain the toothy grin that overtook his face.</p><p>“So, everything’s okay?” Clarke asked breathlessly, not daring to feel any relief until Jackson could definitively answer her question.</p><p>“So far,” Jackson was quick to clarify. “I want to do a quick vaginal ultrasound to take a look at your cervix and uterus. We should be able to see at least some shadowing in your uterus, and I want to check the length and thickness of your cervix.”</p><p>Clarke eyed Jackson as he took a seat on his stool and wheeled the ultrasound machine over to her bed.</p><p>“What do you mean by ‘shadowing’?” Clarke asked pointedly.</p><p>Jackson didn’t look up from readying the machine. “You’re a couple days shy of four weeks, Clarke, which means that there won’t be much to see in terms of development. Even with the advances this equipment provides, it can only show us what’s developed so far.”</p><p>Jackson turns back towards Clarke, wand in hand, and motions for her to scoot forward on the gurney. “At this point, we won’t be able to actually <em>see</em> Madi since the fetal cells are surrounded by cells that will become the placenta,” Jackson rambles.</p><p>Clarke feels her head spinning with the information as nerves mix with the excitement that’s bubbling in her chest.</p><p>Jackson looks to her and asks, “Are you okay with my inserting this? It will show us a lot more than an abdominal ultrasound and doesn’t pose any danger to the baby,” he assures.</p><p>Clarke just nods her assent and focuses on the sonography monitor as she feels the pressure of the wand before suddenly seeing the screen explode in various shades of grey, black, and white.</p><p>Clarke’s eyes remained fixed on the screen as she watches yellow lines appear with a label of “<strong><em>Cervix</em></strong>” hovering above it. She hears Jackson click a few buttons which she knows means he’s taking measurements. She suddenly sees his finger in front of the screen as he uses it to trace a small, thin line that’s outlined in yellow.</p><p>“This here is your cervix, which is so helpfully labeled for us,” he laughs. “It’s at the ideal length and thickness for this stage. It’ll shorten as your pregnancy progresses, but that’s normal. We’ll monitor it during each ultrasound, but so far, so good,” he quips with a smile.</p><p>Turning back to the monitor, Jackson begins taking some more measurements and hums in astonishment as he realizes everything is already being labeled and measured for him with each movement of the wand. There are even assurances from the program being used that everything is within the standard limits. It shows the ideal range on a line and the actual measurement in green within the middle of the line.</p><p>Jackson can’t help but gape at the screen in amazement. This sort of technology takes almost all of the guess work out of sonography and is such a simple, yet seriously appreciated, advancement in reproductive medicine.</p><p>He couldn’t be more grateful for the equipment as he will be navigating his way through his first expectant mother on Earth. An expectant mother who just so happens to also be a nightblood <em>and </em>carrying the last child who’ll ever be born to the human race. No pressure or anything.</p><p>Clarke is staring at the screen in awe for a completely different reason. Her eyes are alight with wonder as she reads a label entitled “<strong><em>Blastocyst (embryo)</em></strong>” that hovers just above a small grey sphere that the blonde realizes houses her baby.</p><p>There’s no arms or legs. There’s not even the telltale oblong dark blob she’s seen on ultrasounds before back on The Ark. There’s no flickering of a heartbeat or nearly imperceptible shimmying of a small bean, but the green reading in the middle of the bar above tells her that this sphere is her baby, and her baby is okay.</p><p>She’s looking at what Jackson said will become the placenta. Tears flow continuously down her cheeks now as she ignores Jackson and pulls the monitor closer, her eyes glued to that grey sphere.</p><p>To <em>Madi</em>.</p><p>Her hand flies up to cup her mouth as a sob escapes at the realization.</p><p>This is her first time<em> officially </em>seeing Madi.</p><p>And she never wants it to end. She wants to spend the entirety of her pregnancy intently watching this little sphere inside of her gradually grow into her beautiful baby girl.</p><p>It’s the greatest thing she’s ever seen, hands down. That dropship door opening for the first time be damned. The lush greenery and vivid colors of the vast forest were <em>nothing </em>compared to the dull colors of the screen before her right now. It took her breath away.</p><p>Before Clarke could protest, she felt the wand being removed. Whatever Jackson had been saying still wasn’t registering as he handed Clarke a strip of photos still warm from printing.</p><p>A strip of photos containing images she just saw – labels still visible and all.</p><p>Clarke was careful to hold it with her dry hand. She’d grabbed it so gingerly that it almost felt weightless in her grasp.</p><p>A weightless strip of images that carried the weight of her entire world in black and white ink.</p><p>Jackson finally managed to garner her attention as he placed a hand on her shoulder. He wore a soft, understanding smile as he addressed her.</p><p>“We’ll check your bloodwork again in another week or so. We’ll do another ultrasound like this a few days after that. But, from everything we’ve seen so far, your pregnancy is developing wonderfully.” Jackson’s smile is so wide that it’s contagious.</p><p>“The attachment to the uterine lining went off without a hitch. Everything really does look good Clarke, so ease up on that anxiety a little, would ya?” he smirks. “I’d rather not have to test the potency of that hypertension tonic from Sanctum,” the doctor adds in amusement.</p><p>Clarke just looks back down to the strip in her hands, the quiver in her lips evident against her watery smile, and nods. She knows Jackson can tell it’s the only response he’ll get as she feels the weight of his hand lift from her shoulder.</p><p>“I’m going to give you a few minutes alone and go check the stone room really quick,” Jackson says in a rush as his form retreats to the doorway.</p><p>“Hey Jackson?”</p><p>“Yeah?” he turns.</p><p>“Raven will get him here safely. Ease up on all that worry a little, would ya?” Clarke calls out in a light tone with a smirk on her red face.</p><p>Jackson huffs out a laugh and nods once in the blonde’s direction. He knows it’s her way of thanking him for everything he’s done, but he’s grateful for the sincerity in her words just the same.</p><p>“I expect to see more of that food and water gone by the time I return,” he commands teasingly.</p><p>Clarke doesn’t need to be told twice as she’s already reaching for the food cart when Jackson finally turns to leave.</p><p>Now it’s his turn to await the fate of his child.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Greetings, wonderful people! I had initially wanted to combine this chapter and the next chapter into one long chapter, but opted to split them up so I could keep my word about updating early this week.<br/>I won't make any promises regarding when the next chapter will be up, but I do promise to try and not make anyone wait too terribly long.</p><p>Happy Thanksgiving to all my Americans and anyone else who celebrates the holiday at whatever date. The holidays season is upon us, y'all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. New Bonds With Old Friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The gang finally manages to be on the same planet again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Surprise! Here's an unedited update as a show of gratitude to all of my wonderful readers and loyal reviewers.</p><p>Enjoy the update and Happy Thanksgiving!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raven ripped her helmet off and dropped it carelessly at her side, too tired to bother bending down to place it gently on the floor. This day felt endless, and to her it actually was since she kept travelling to planets where time had passed even slower than the last. She’d spent hours in Sanctum working relentlessly only for like half an hour to have passed on Earth.</p><p>How much time had passed here? Raven didn’t feel like expending more mental energy to figure that one out. She just wanted to get this over with and get everyone back to Earth. If there were any mercy left for humanity, it would allow for her to return to Earth when everyone was headed to bed.</p><p>She’d just helped end a war earlier in the day, for crying out loud. Here she was again, back on the planet she swore she’d never return to unless it was under the direst of circumstances. She’s back on the <em>Same. Fucking. Day. </em>Typical.</p><p>It’s not that she didn’t <em>want </em>to help her friends and save these embryos, but she was fucking exhausted. Sometimes it really sucked being a genius, Raven lamented. Wasn’t Jordan here too? Maybe Wonder Boy had already figured it out.</p><p>One could only hope.</p><p>She huffed out an exasperated breath and heaved her braced leg forward first, needing to get some momentum going with it after the stiffness had long since set in. She gradually gained some speed and eventually her ponytail started to swish wildly behind her. She had <em>just </em>realized she had no fucking clue where she was going when Jordan randomly rounded a corner.</p><p>“Thank God you’re here!” The kid exclaimed the second he saw her; his face lighting up the way Harper’s always did whenever Murphy actually managed to be funny.</p><p>
  <em>God, she missed that woman.</em>
</p><p>She didn’t have time for the familiar sadness to creep in as she was suddenly being dragged down some nameless hallway to God only knows where. Hopefully towards the problem.</p><p>The problem Jordan clearly hadn’t solved if he was making his way towards the stone room in hopes of getting to her.</p><p>
  <em>So much for that thought.</em>
</p><p>“All of the babies are claimed – <em>none </em>by me, I should add – but we just realized the whole time dilation thing could be an issue.” Jordan spits everything out so quickly that it makes Raven’s head spin.</p><p>He takes her stunned silence as a sign to continue at the same rapid-fire pace. “Levitt said the tanks can be disconnected from life support for one hour, but they need a power source and a delivery tank system in which their nutrients can be administered regularly. He’s already gathering the stores of nutrients the Disciples had stocked up, so that’s not a problem. The problem is getting them attached to a new source on Earth in an hour…”</p><p>“<em>Jordan</em>!”</p><p>The authority in Raven’s voice and the loud hiss to her tone had him stopping on a dime, his shoes squeaking obnoxiously against the smooth floor.</p><p>The bewildered look on his face and the hint of fear in his wide eyes almost made her feel guilty. <em>Almost.</em></p><p>“When you say delivery tanks, do you mean tanks that consistently feed the incubators or only intermittently?” Raven asked in a slightly less irritated tone.</p><p>Jordan shuffled from one foot to another as he suddenly found the sight of his shoes very fascinating. “Continuously. The nutrients are deposited intermittently, but the embryos are monitored constantly, so the nutrients have to be available at all times in case their levels start to drop,” he mutters timidly.</p><p>Raven will address his seemingly hurt feelings later. Right now, she was going over all viable options for these incubators in her head. The most obvious answer would’ve been the tanks in the hydrofarm, but apparently those were <em>kaput</em> thanks to Octavia.</p><p>Because nothing could ever have a quick, easy solution for once.</p><p>Okay maybe that wasn’t true. But it felt that way right now during hour 2,000 of this never-fucking-ending day.</p><p>“Show me these incubators. It’ll help for me to actually see what we’re working with here,” she requested with a gesture for Jordan to lead the way.</p><p>He did so quickly and quietly – leading her down yet another impossibly long hallway that dumped them out in the creepiest room she’d ever seen. And she’d seen floated corpses pass by her before on spacewalks, so this was <em>really </em>saying something.</p><p>Raven felt her mouth go dry the way it usually did before she was about to be sick. She clamped a hand over her mouth and averted her eyes before storming off in the direction of voices that mercifully lead away from the sight of decaying babies. Jordan just wordlessly trailed behind.</p><p>Murphy was the first to spot her, much to her chagrin. “Ah, you’re just in time for moving day. Congratulations, you’re the designated party planner here!” he exclaimed with a wide gesture to either incubator at his side, his famous <em>Murphy </em>smirk as infuriating as ever.</p><p>Emori had made her way to Raven and wrapped the mechanic in a much-appreciated hug. A hug that Raven leaned into maybe a little too much in her exhausted state.</p><p>“We’re glad you’re here, Raven. There’s nobody we’d trust more to safely deliver our son to another planet.” Emori spared a sideways glance at her friend as if she were waiting for some grand reaction.</p><p>“Your <em>what</em>?!”</p><p>And there it was.</p><p>Murphy smiled and leaned against an incubator on the end. “That’s right, Reyes. You can start preparing your toast to me for when I win Father of The Year.” Murphy sauntered over towards the women and threw his arm around Emori, placing a firm kiss to the side of her head.</p><p>Raven just stared at Emori who only smiled happily in response as she leaned further into her boyfriend’s touch.</p><p>Before Raven could even think to form a response, Miller slid out from behind the incubator in the middle.</p><p>Raven just watched as Miller stepped up to Murphy’s other side. “Didn’t realize you weren’t planning to return to Earth with us, Murphy,” Miller added with feigned concern.</p><p>Miller snorted at Murphy’s questioning gaze. “Being on another planet is the only way you’d ever win Father of The Year over Jack and me,” he huffed haughtily before patting the other man roughly on the back.</p><p>Too rough if Murphy’s amusing little wince was anything for Raven to go by. She let out a breathless laugh before shaking her head and wrapping Emori into another tight embrace.</p><p>“Congratulations, mamacita,” Raven whispered into Emori’s hair. She just felt the other woman nod against her, probably too consumed with emotion to manage a verbal response.</p><p>Emori wiped at her eyes and chuckled as she and Raven parted. Raven then turned to Murphy with a quirked brow and an expectant hand on her hip before he relented. Rolling his eyes, he stepped forward to meet her for a hug.</p><p>“Don’t screw it up, Murphy,” Raven warned with a knowing smile as she pulled away from the man.</p><p>He just laughed and said, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Reyes. Emori’s going to do all the heavy lifting anyway.” The smirk he wore faded quickly as the back of Emori’s hand connected with his chest.</p><p>Raven just laughed at the two before her as Levitt entered the room with his arms full. Octavia and Hope followed right behind him, their arms also loaded down with boxes Raven could only assume contained the nutrients Jordan had mentioned.</p><p>To her surprise, Hope was the first to address her.</p><p>“Did you get the stuff for Clarke? Did Jackson check her out?” Hope asked anxiously as she took a step forward and shifted the boxes into Jordan’s unsuspecting arms. He made them look <em>a lot </em>heavier than Hope had.</p><p>Raven’s smile couldn’t have been any wider as she decided to use this time to make an announcement.</p><p>“Well, everyone, it seems that our fearless leader did indeed manage to get knocked up like a day after arriving on a new planet, and the baby is in fact little miss Madi Griffin!” She finished with a yell as she pumped her fist high in victory. A chorus of excited cheers, claps, and whoops exploded all around her.</p><p>Hope and Jordan shared cute little grade school kid smiles, Murphy high fived Miller while screaming “<em>fuck yes</em>”, Emori let out an incredulous laugh, and Octavia, much to the mechanic’s surprise, sidled up next to her.</p><p>Raven turned to glance at Octavia whose shoulders seemed to visibly slump in relief.</p><p>She was shocked yet again as she heard a quiet, “I wasn’t sure she’d survive this one, Raven. I don’t think we would’ve been able to get her through it,” Octavia confides in a whisper that’s barely audible.</p><p>Raven manages to hear every word. “Trust me, I had the same fears. Now we don’t have to think about that. We just have to focus on getting her through this pregnancy and the delivery. We <em>have </em>to step up for her, Octavia. You know Clarke,” Raven states with a pleading look to the woman beside her.</p><p>Octavia’s jaw tightens and Raven sees the woman’s firm nod of agreement. “We’ll bear it so she doesn’t have to. At least until Madi’s here safe and sound.” It’s not a question or a request. It’s a resolution. A simple statement of fact for both women.</p><p>It’s Raven’s turn to nod, a small smile gracing her face as she feels a growing connection to the woman next to her. The woman who’s certainly a far cry from the 17-year-old girl she remembered from the dropship.</p><p>Both women looked up as Levitt approached them hesitantly. “I’m sorry to interrupt but given all the time that’s passing on Earth right now, we should probably try and figure out a way to transport these incubators.” He nods behind him for emphasis, finally setting down the boxes he’d been holding.</p><p>Miller pipes up in agreement. “Yeah, Jack’s gotta be going out of his mind right now. What’s the game plan here?”</p><p>Raven beckons Miller over and gestures to the boxes Levitt just set down. “You take these,” she nods towards Jordan and his boxes, “and those through the stone back to Earth. Then get your ass right back here to help move these things.”</p><p>Miller rolls his bottom lip under his top teeth but moves to grab the boxes without a fight.</p><p>Satisfied that one issue is being taken care of, she turns back to Levitt. “You do know how to disconnect these things, right? Jordan said you can put them on a one-hour stasis or whatever while they’re being transported.”</p><p>Levitt squares his shoulders and lifts his chin upon being addressed, and Raven has to admit that it’s pretty darn cute. He nods emphatically as he speaks. “I can take care of that and physically moving them so long as you can get them reconnected to a reliable source in the bunker.”</p><p>Raven sighs. All eyes were on her now, of course. She just ignores them and turns to Octavia. “There’s several water tanks in the bunker, right?”</p><p>“Yeah. We had multiple water recyclers. We still have at least five left, and there should be seven tanks connected to the remaining five recyclers,” Octavia answers, skepticism written all over her face and in her tone.</p><p>Raven doesn’t seem to notice as she’s busy running through calculations. “The water cyclers have the ability to run continuously, and we don’t have a source hooked up to any of them yet. I say we hook up a tank to each one and run the nutrients through continuously instead of water. Would that work?” She directs her question to Levitt.</p><p>Levitt appears to think it over before finally saying, “I don’t see why not.”</p><p>Not exactly the confident response she was hoping for, but it would have to do.</p><p>“And once we get a water source, we can use the remaining two recyclers to fill our tanks.” Jordan finally found his voice again as his excitement grew upon hearing the plan.</p><p>Raven smirked at the boy. “And Bob’s your uncle.”</p><p>Raven could’ve hugged Jordan right then and there. Poor guy looked like he could be knocked over with a feather after hearing that. At least Monty and Harper left a pretty cool legacy behind.</p><p>“Are we doing this or what?” Murphy interjected, looking as antsy as ever.</p><p>Guess he wasn’t as excited about the plan.</p><p>Raven nodded to Levitt who nodded at Jordan. Apparently the two men had some unspoken plan of action of their own.</p><p>Levitt seemed to read Raven’s mind. “I’m going to disconnect the incubators and Jordan is going to engage the wheels and get them locked into place.”</p><p>Raven could’ve collapsed in relief right then and there. “These things have wheels?!”</p><p>Levitt just smiled and winked in her direction. “Told ya I could get them disconnected and moved.”</p><p>Touché, random former Disciple. Touché.</p><p>This was going to make life <em>so </em>much easier.</p><p>-</p><p>With Jordan and Levitt having everything under control for the moment, Octavia and Raven were left standing side-by-side just watching and waiting.</p><p>Octavia cleared her throat and broke the awkward silence. “I can’t believe this happened to Clarke of all people,” she said with a sly smile.</p><p>Raven crossed her arms and wore her own amused grin as she never took her eyes off of Jordan.</p><p>“You mean you didn’t foresee Clarke Griffin, the most mature of the kids sent to die on Earth, being sort of the first – and I guess <em>last </em>– one of us to get pregnant?” Raven cocked an eyebrow as she turned her attention towards the brunette next to her.</p><p>Octavia openly laughs at that. “If you tell Clarke I said any of that...”</p><p>Raven snorts. “Chill, Pocahontas. Your secret’s safe with me. Besides, I’ve already pointed out the irony of it all to our fearless leader.” Raven says with a casual shrug, as if it’s no big deal.</p><p>The lighthearted nature of their conversation suddenly has Octavia feeling bold enough to give in to her curiosity.</p><p>“How’d you all do it, by the way? You know, manage to not have any babies during those 6 years in space,” Octavia asks.</p><p>At the mechanic’s silence, Octavia rushes to explain. “I mean everyone has seen the way Emori and Murphy go at it. You don’t have to be around them for years to put that together. Monty and Harper were together the whole time, I’m assuming, and then there was Echo and my…” Her voice drops to a whisper. “My brother,” she finally manages after the slight hesitation.</p><p>Octavia hears a loaded sigh and turns to face a now somber looking Raven.</p><p>“The Ring was the Go-Sci ring,” Raven states. She looks knowingly at the former warrior only to be greeted with a look of confusion.</p><p><em>Right. Girl under the floor. </em>Raven mentally slaps herself.</p><p>“Go-Sci stands for Government and Science,” she quickly adds. “It’s where the Council conducted their business and also happens to be where Medical was located on The Ark.”</p><p>The mechanic looks expectantly at Octavia, hoping she can fill in the blanks now.</p><p>Octavia’s blank expression says otherwise.</p><p>Raven bites back a groan and opts for her usual bluntness instead. “Apparently nobody had time to raid Medical before the other stations broke away from the Ring. We made the most of our unrestricted access to the supplies – including the birth control implants.”</p><p>Raven feels herself sigh in relief at Octavia’s nod of understanding.</p><p>She chuckles as she remembers the Grounder women’s initial response to the concept. “Echo and Emori were skeptical at first, but they quickly jumped on board once they both realized they now actually had a <em>need </em>for birth control. Abstinence hadn't exactly been an option for them anymore.”</p><p>Octavia’s next words rip Raven from her memories and almost send the poor mechanic staggering backwards.</p><p>“I wish Echo hadn’t been on board,” Octavia says in a low tone. The sadness evident in her eyes and something close to a look of regret washing over her face.</p><p>Raven feels the wind being knocked out of her when she realizes the weight of the other girl’s statement.</p><p>
  <em>So much for fun bonding.</em>
</p><p>The mechanic takes a deep breath and centers her posture before turning to look Octavia square in the eye. She almost grabs the woman’s shoulders with her hands, but just hits her with a hard stare instead.</p><p>“If anyone knows how Bellamy would raise a child, it’s you.” Raven says resolutely.</p><p>“That kid over there,” she points to the first tank, “is going to be the best parts of the Bellamy we knew because <em>you </em>will have the chance to teach him all the good your brother taught you.”</p><p>Raven’s eyes move back and forth between Octavia’s teary ones. No more words needed to be spoken as Octavia manages a small smile at the thought.</p><p>Raven, satisfied with herself and the outcome of the conversation, attempts to redirect with her usual smartass charm.</p><p>“Besides,” the mechanic grins cockily, “if you think Murphy and Emori are bad, you never had to witness Monty and Harper. They just had more tact. I’m honestly surprised they kept it to one kid while we were in cryo.” Raven raises her eyebrows and tilts her head towards Octavia.</p><p>Octavia’s ensuing laugh is cut off by Jordan’s sudden appearance. Apparently the women failed to notice that he’d finished activating the wheels of each incubator.</p><p>“Actually, that was something my parents and I struggled with for years.” Jordan’s harsh voice cut right through both women – suffocating any joy they’d re-established with his unexpected statement.</p><p>They looked at him with soft eyes as he continued in a lighter tone that was more natural for the boy.</p><p>“You may not remember this from my dad’s video, but my mom had a heart condition.” Jordan broke eye contact with the women. It was becoming too much for him as his emotions continued to climb.</p><p>“There were a few…<em>scary</em>…I guess you could call them scary…moments while my mom was pregnant with me. My dad almost woke up Clarke, Jackson, <em>and </em>Abby when she went into early labor with me. Mom stopped him, of course.” Jordan smiled at the thought.</p><p>That was the way he’d always wanted to remember his mother – kind, but definitely stubborn when she needed to be.</p><p>He swallowed at the growing lump in his throat. “She um, well they couldn’t stop the early labor because mom’s heart could no longer handle the stress of pregnancy. I was born a bit prematurely, and apparently things were kind of touch and go for a little while,” Jordan trails off.</p><p>Luckily, Octavia and Raven didn’t need him to explain the rest. They met each other’s eyes, a flash of understanding passing between them, before tentatively approaching the boy.</p><p>Jordan looked up as they got closer, eyes heartbreakingly glassy with unshed tears. His voice wobbled with his next words. “They thought about waking Madi for a little bit as I got older, but neither of them wanted to dare risk Clarke’s possible wrath.” He let out a strangled laugh.</p><p>Octavia smiled knowingly and Raven huffed out her own amused laugh. They both knew <em>exactly </em>what the kid was talking about; they were grateful Monty and Harper had enough sense to not tempt fate by messing with Madi Griffin’s cryo chamber.</p><p>“I’m so sorry about what I said, Jordan. Back in the Mess Hall at the prison ship. I didn’t mean any of it. I…”</p><p>Jordan cut off Octavia with a wave of his hand. “I know. I knew all along what you were trying to do. I know you, <em>this</em> you,” he gestured awkwardly to the woman in front of him, “would’ve never said anything like that about my dad.”</p><p>Octavia was the one to cast her eyes away this time. She didn’t feel like she deserved such earnest forgiveness and understanding from the young man. Especially not as Monty’s anguished cries sounded in her head while images of her friend shooting his own mother to save Octavia assaulted her brain.</p><p>Octavia’s voice betrayed her, breaking with emotion every few words. “Monty was one of the bravest people I knew,” she finished hoarsely.</p><p>Jordan could read past the emotion to hear the honesty behind her words. He may have said she didn’t need to apologize but hearing about his dad’s bravery from such a badass individual meant the world to him.</p><p>And when something meant the world to Jordan, he couldn’t contain the overwhelming feelings of happiness. He crashed into Octavia for a bone-crushing embrace. Raven, never being one to be left out, laughed and threw her own arms around the pair to join in.</p><p>That’s how Levitt and Hope found them after returning from disconnecting the incubators. Hope’s alarm at the odd sight quickly turning into relief when she caught sight of Jordan’s impossibly bright face.</p><p>She swore she’d never understand how he managed to have that effect on her. Just seeing him smile turned her insides to goo.</p><p>Hope would be disgusted by herself if he didn’t make her feel so damned happy.</p><p>The squeaking wheel of a moving incubator broke the moment apart.</p><p>Murphy, carefully wheeling the incubator containing his son, makes his out the door. “You guys won’t be all sappy smiles and shit if these kids don’t make it back in time. Get your ass to Earth, Raven!” he barks out over his shoulder with an attentive Emori at his heels.</p><p>Raven just rolls her eyes and heads for Bardo’s stone room as she hears Levitt, Octavia, Hope, and Jordan wheel the remaining two incubators out behind her.</p><p>-</p><p>Jackson and Miller greeted them immediately upon their return to Earth. Apparently, they’d alerted everyone about the impending arrivals as the whole gang (minus Clarke) was scattered behind the two men, waiting patiently to see how they could be of assistance.</p><p>The group headed towards the water recyclers with a purpose. Luckily, Miller and Jackson were familiar with the system and had the forethought to clear, sanitize, and prep the tanks while they waited.</p><p>All Raven had to do was a simple plug and play before Levitt ran a cycle through to test her handiwork. Once the air bubbles were expelled and everything was sealed, the three incubators were attached to the water tanks and their individual water, well, <em>nutrient</em> recyclers.</p><p>The room erupted in applause as each tank flashed blue, signaling life support status was reactivated and all was well.</p><p>Levitt and Octavia volunteered to take first watch. It made the most sense since Levitt was most familiar with the system. He and Octavia would train Jordan and Hope to take over the next shift when the time came.</p><p>Emori started to protest, insisting all the parents should get to be there if they so desired. Murphy, much like Emori did to him not even hours before, just grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him towards their room in the next hall over, grumbling grumpily about his exhaustion all the way.</p><p>Raven wanted nothing more than to go crash in her own bunk. Hell, <em>any </em>bunk at this point, but the glaring absence needed to be addressed first.</p><p>She first looked to Jackson, but he was busy grilling Levitt about processes and rotations.</p><p>Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she scanned the room once again until she found Echo.</p><p>Echo, ever the attentive spy, caught Raven’s gaze immediately and jerked her head towards the door in a silent direction for Raven to follow.</p><p>Echo kept moving once they were out of the room, only slowing enough for Raven to meet her stride. “She’s in medical. We’ll head there now and get her to bed,” Echo states determinedly.</p><p>Raven stops dead in her tracks and grabs the other woman’s arm to get her to do the same. “What do you mean <em>get her to bed</em>?” Raven asks pointedly, brows drawing together in curious suspicion.</p><p>Echo sighs before explaining. “Jackson put Clarke on a <em>tentative </em>bed rest, so she was told not to move until one of us came to get her.”</p><p>Raven gaped at the woman. “And Clarke actually <em>agreed</em> to that?!” she sputters.</p><p>Echo quirks an eyebrow and grins deviously at the mechanic. “Jackson knows how to wield Madi as a weapon better than Octavia wields a sword,” the former spy says with amusement sparkling in her dark eyes.</p><p>Raven can’t decide if she’s amused yet or not. She doesn’t know quite how to feel about her little baby goddaughter (because Raven won’t stop until that happens) being used as blackmail.</p><p>She quickly decides she’s 110% okay with it when they reach Medical and see the blonde in question hurriedly making her way back towards the gurney.</p><p>“What the hell, Clarke?” Raven does her best to sound stern but can’t keep the amusement out of her voice at the question.</p><p>Clarke just huffs exasperatedly and rolls her eyes, her arms folding defiantly across her chest. “<em>You </em>try being attached to IV fluids all day and drinking two pitchers of water <em>while</em> being pregnant without having to pee, Raven!” she challenges.</p><p>Okay, Raven will give that one to her. She gets a pass this time.</p><p>“You don’t need your IV fluids anymore, right?” Echo asks while making her way towards Clarke.</p><p>The mechanic sees blonde waves fly as Clarke shakes her head harder than necessary. “Absolutely not. If I have anymore fluids at this point, I may actually float away,” Clarke says with a dramatic raise of her eyebrows.</p><p>Raven laughs tiredly before linking her arm around the blonde’s free one. “Jackson says Mini Madi is kicking ass, as per yooj, and the boy baby banks are up and running in the recycler room…”</p><p>“So, Lexa was right about the embryos?!” Clarke exclaims. “They’re here, as in <em>here </em>on <em>Earth</em>?!” She whirls around erratically towards Raven, blue eyes wide and pleading.</p><p>Raven, too tired to get anywhere near matching Clarke’s enthusiasm, nods numbly. “Yep. They exist and are alive and well here where we won’t have to worry about time dilation during their gestation.”</p><p>She hears Clarke’s incredulous laugh and can’t help but smile when she turns her head and sees Clarke’s face lit up almost blindingly. Raven didn’t think the blonde’s smile could <em>possibly</em> get any bigger without the girl’s face cracking but was proven wrong as Clarke’s smile stretched even wider when blue eyes traveled down towards the floor.</p><p>Raven’s own eyes followed Clarke’s to the blonde’s waist, and she noticed Clarke’s free hand cradling her flat abdomen.</p><p>Raven was caught off guard when sparkling blue eyes suddenly met hers, Clarke’s grip on her hand almost painfully tight.</p><p>“She won’t be alone, Raven.” Clarke’s whisper did nothing to conceal the thick emotion in her voice.</p><p>Raven caught Echo’s smile out of the corner of her eye as she squeezed Clarke’s hand in return.</p><p>The mechanic watched Echo send her an almost imperceptible nod of approval as they reached the corridor containing the rooms they’d claimed before. Echo slipped into the room next to Clarke’s, shutting the door with purpose behind her.</p><p>Clarke didn’t seem to notice, but Raven sure as hell did.</p><p>Clarke’s attention was on the door just feet away from them to their right. Raven couldn’t help but notice the way Clarke’s hand bunched nervously at the fabric covering her lower belly.</p><p>Raven closed the gap between them and the door, pulling Clarke through the doorway with her before dropping the blonde’s hand and casually removing her red bomber jacket to toss onto an empty bunk.</p><p>The mechanic dug out the small lighter in her pocket to light one of the candles that still had some life to it. She was about to flip the light switch and crawl into the bunk she knew to be adjacent from Clarke’s when she finally seemed to register the blonde standing frozen near the door.</p><p>Raven frowned at Clarke’s stunned expression. “It’s been a long day, Clarke. I mean technically it’s been long <em>days</em> for both of us. So help me God if you don’t get into that bed I <em>will </em>sick Jackson on you,” Raven threatens with a mock glare.</p><p>Clarke didn’t bother to move as her eyes scanned Raven like she was trying to look right into the mechanic’s soul. “You don’t have to…”</p><p>Raven cut that thought off as she dropped into her claimed bunk with a resounding <em>thud</em>. “Yes, I do, Clarke. Madi’s not the only one who won’t be alone, and you’re just going to have to accept that.” She pins the blonde with an <em>actual </em>glare this time, daring the woman to challenge her again.</p><p>Her eyes soften when Clarke finally situates herself down onto her own bunk, a quiet “Thank you, Raven,” being the last thing the brunette hears before she finally succumbs to her exhaustion.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. What's In A Name?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everyone needs their own identity.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>SO very sorry for the wait! Had a family member arrive unexpectedly for a visit the day after Thanksgiving. They just left this morning. It was a great visit.</p><p>Here's a lengthy chapter to help make up for it. I have a ton of outlines for this story, so stuff is going to get pretty wild. </p><p>I hope you all had a great holiday!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Octavia slumped to the other side in her chair, trying not to sigh for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. As enamored as she was by what was going on in the incubators before her, she also started to feel the day creep up on her over the last hour or so.</p><p>Levitt had shown her how to troubleshoot the recyclers and add more nutrients when the time came. Outside of that, they kept conversation up intermittently. She could tell the usually energetic man was starting to drag too.</p><p>She was startled out of her thoughts by the loud scraping from the chair next to her. She lifted her head and saw Levitt leaned forward in his seat with his forearms resting just above his knees and his fingers interlaced tightly between his legs. Her own face fell at the strained look on his.</p><p>He voiced what was bothering him before Octavia could even ask. “I don’t have a last name.” He looked down towards his lap, his cheeks reddening in what she recognized as shame.</p><p>Maybe it was the drowsiness talking, but Octavia was thoroughly confused. “What?” she asked, blinking rapidly at him as if that would help clear the fog from her brain.</p><p>Levitt just looked away from her and mumbled. “I don’t have a last name. Disciples of The Shepherd weren’t given family surnames because we didn’t have families. Families were a construct considered detrimental to the cause for all mankind.”</p><p>Octavia eyed him in alarm when he suddenly shot out of his chair and started pacing, one hand holding firmly to the wrist of his other behind his back.</p><p><em>Where was </em>this <em>coming from?</em></p><p>She watched as he stopped just in front of their son’s incubator, his eyes scanning the short length of the embryo with a desperate look of longing. Her anxiety only escalated when his hand came up to rest on the glass before him.</p><p>The silence in the air felt suffocating, but she couldn’t seem to find the right words to break it.</p><p>“He’ll have to be a Blake, if that’s okay with you,” Levitt whispered. His eyes not leaving the baby floating safely in front of him.</p><p>Octavia blinked hard in realization, like she’d finally managed to dispel her former confusion with that simple act. Suddenly filled with energy she didn’t know she could muster, she stood from her own seat and made her way to stand by Levitt’s side.</p><p>Her hand reached up and found his shoulder. “I’d like nothing more than for this little guy to be a Blake, Levitt,” Octavia said softly.</p><p>“Not having your last name doesn’t make him any less yours. I hope you know that.” She tilted her head just a bit, using her intense gaze to try and communicate what she couldn’t put to words.</p><p>Levitt sighed in frustration and ran a ragged hand through his hair. “But where does that leave me, Octavia? Having a last name was forbidden because it was a <em>family </em>construct. You and the little guy will have that bond – that reminder of your familial connection. I’ll forever just be Levitt.”</p><p>The croak in his voice and the rapid bobbing of his Adam’s apple was almost too much for Octavia to handle. She cleared her own throat a few times in the hope that her voice wouldn’t betray the heartbreak she was feeling.</p><p>“The second you agreed to do this with me, you became <em>so </em>much more than ‘Levitt,’” she stated as she grabbed at the arm closest to her to draw his attention.</p><p>“You’re his <em>father</em>, Levitt. There’s <em>no </em>name or title that’s more important than that.” Octavia was staring at him so fiercely that he almost looked like he would flinch. She needed him to know how serious this was. How much she meant everything she said.</p><p>His eyes were trained to the floor when she spoke in a softer tone, almost a whisper. “If we’re Blakes, you’re a Blake too.”</p><p>Levitt’s head snapped up and his eyes met hers, searching between her green orbs like he was trying to gauge her sincerity.</p><p>The way his mouth hung open and his blinking ceased elicited a laugh from Octavia. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, reading his mind despite having known him for such a short period of time.</p><p>“I mean it, Levitt,” she said in a firmer tone. “You’re a Blake now, whether you wanted to be or not.”</p><p>Octavia <em>so </em>hoped he wanted to be.</p><p>She yelped as she found herself being lifted from the ground; his arms wrapped snuggly around her petite frame as he spun them around in a complete circle. He finally set her down, but his arms remained securely around her small waist.</p><p>Bellamy used to read her stories where the author would describe someone’s face as having lit up. She never understood what that meant until she met Levitt. That was the only way she could describe the lethal combination of the crinkling next to his eyes that glimmered as light danced off of their every movement. His cheeks rounded so much from his gigantic smile that it almost looked <em>painful. </em></p><p>It was absolutely stunning. <em>He </em>was absolutely stunning. She’d never thought she’d describe a man that way. She’d never thought a lot of things before she met the man in front of her.</p><p>It was like transitioning from living in space to living on the ground. Exciting, thrilling, exhilarating, fun, and terrifying in the best possible way.</p><p>The contagiousness of his smile had her smiling so hard that it actually did hurt, but it was the rare kind of pain that she’d always welcome.</p><p>Levitt finally tore his eyes away from hers and she felt her smile falter ever so slightly at the loss of eye contact. She still couldn’t tear her own eyes from the side of his face. The wonder she saw as he looked at their son had her mouth going dry at the sight. The plunge of emotion in her chest was overwhelming.</p><p>“As cute as ‘Little Guy Blake’ sounds, I think he needs a name, Octavia.” Levitt glanced at her before continuing. “He needs his own identity,” he concludes with a firm nod towards their child.</p><p>Octavia has to remind herself to breathe for a second as she shifts her gaze to the baby. <em>Her </em>baby, she reminds herself. She feels herself gasp in a breath at how surreal this all is.</p><p>The Girl Under the Floor was never supposed to have a baby to name. Her mother had hammered that reality into her head repeatedly at a young age. There was never supposed to be any love or friends for her.</p><p>-</p><p><em>Bellamy had just finished telling her the story about how he’d chosen her name. It was </em>always <em>her favorite, no matter how many times she heard it.</em></p><p><em>At seven years old, Octavia knew just about all the stories there were to tell about the oft-forgotten Roman empire. They had always been her brother’s favorite stories, so naturally they became her favorites as well.  </em> </p><p>
  <em>Bellamy hardly ever denied her of a story. They kept her calm, quiet, and occupied in her limited, cramped little world.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He chuckled and went about telling the story like he always did. The story of Emperor Augustus had been his favorite when he was around her age, and Augustus had a sister named Octavia.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Two sisters named Octavia, actually, and Bellamy would always joke that one was more than enough for him. He’d look at her with all the tenderness a teenage boy could muster and fondly tell her that she was one of a kind, so there was no need for another.</em>
</p><p><em>Octavia had always known she was special, but her brother never made her feel like it was the </em>bad <em>kind of special like her mom had implied whenever the woman was stressed. Bell made her feel like an Empress herself – like she could do or have anything one day. </em></p><p>
  <em>He gave her the very thing that allowed her to survive all those years hiding under the floor. He gave her hope.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Once he’d finished his retelling of the day she was born and just how he’d come up with her name, Octavia had a thought that had her bouncing on the bunk in excitement.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Octavia The Younger had a son, Bell! Remember?! They called him Marcellus!” Octavia was practically shouting in all her enthusiasm.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy laughed softly as he gently shushed her. He grabbed her shoulders and stared directly into her eyes as he took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. She mimicked his actions until her brother deemed the little girl calm enough to stop.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He smiled at his sister, his face shining with pride at her intelligence. “That’s right, O. Octavia Minor only had one son, and they called him Marcellus,” he finally answered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If I have a son, I’m going to name him Marcellus just like she did! Wouldn’t that be so cool, Bell?! I’d name him after their family’s story, just like you did with me!” Octavia exclaimed, her tiny fists shaking up and down as she started bouncing in her seat again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy looked away from the girl before responding. Her excitement and naivety not having registered that his smile had suddenly turned sad. “Yeah, O. That would be pretty cool,” he said softly.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Octavia had to blink back tears at the memory. Raven’s words from earlier about Octavia being the one to teach her son the best things Bellamy taught her swirled in with her childhood memories.</p><p>The word escaped before she even had time to give it a second thought.</p><p>“Marcellus,” Octavia whispered at the incubator in front of her.</p><p>She felt Levitt shift towards her. “What?” he asked, eyebrows twitching in confusion.</p><p>“Marcellus,” Octavia said louder. “Bell used to tell me his favorite stories about the Roman Emperor Augustus and Augustus’s family. He named me after the emperor’s sister. It’s my way of honoring my brother for the person he was back before…everything. I’d like to name our son Marcellus<em> if</em> that’s okay with you.” She added as an afterthought.</p><p>She was still trying to get used to running things by someone. She and Diyoza had become so in sync after about a year or so that they stopped seeking the other’s approval before making decisions.</p><p>She was mentally preparing herself for rejection when Levitt addressed the baby in front of them instead of her.</p><p>The tender smile he wore put teenage Bellamy’s to shame. “You hear that, Marcellus Blake? You have a name. Your very own identity,” he said gently as his fingertips rested right above their son’s face.</p><p>Octavia couldn’t hold back her previous tears any longer upon witnessing the interaction.</p><p>She sniffled and followed his eyes to look at their child. “Marcellus <em>Ethan</em> Blake,” she corrected. Her voice cracked just saying the middle name.</p><p>Levitt just looked at her again, his brow furrowing deeply in confusion this time. “Ethan?”</p><p>Octavia knew she couldn’t face either of her boys for this one. “It can also be customary for kids to have a middle name, and I owe it to the first Ethan to honor him,” she said quietly.</p><p>Levitt just nodded, but his inquisitive nature wouldn’t allow him to stop there. “Who was Ethan?”</p><p>Octavia let out a heavy sigh. “Sometimes I forget we never reached Praimfaya in M-Cap,” she muttered in annoyance.</p><p>Levitt had an apology ready on his lips. One that would tell her that it was okay and to just forget he asked. She beat him to the punch.</p><p>“Ethan was my responsibility. I agreed to care for him, but I failed him. I made him what he was despite my absence. Everything he ever did was to try and gain my approval – my love.” Octavia closed her eyes and let the tears fall.</p><p>“He – he was the first to die in the war I waged. Took a bullet to the head right next to me,” Octavia said, feeling a familiar wave of numbness wash over her as a defense mechanism.</p><p>Levitt let out an audible gasp, but otherwise stayed silent. He was always good at knowing when there was more to tell.</p><p>“He didn’t get a fair chance at life. A chance that he deserved. As odd as this might sound, I want him to get that chance through our son, in a way. I want Ethan’s life to have meant something the way I know Marcellus’s will.”</p><p>Octavia’s voice was void of emotion, but the tears running down her cheeks and her still-brimming eyes gave her away.</p><p>Levitt looked back towards the baby. “Marcellus Ethan Blake,” he corrected. “A strong name for an even stronger little boy,” Levitt stated with a single nod of confidence.</p><p>Octavia smiled past the tears. Levitt truly did make for the <em>best </em>company, and an even better family man.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Miller, Murphy, and Emori were the first ones to arrive to relieve Octavia and Levitt the next morning. Miller explained that Jackson was off checking Clarke’s blood pressure and seeing how she did through the night.</p><p>Octavia knew Jackson had wanted to be with them more than anything, but she was <em>so</em> incredibly grateful that he was entrusting others with his child to be a doctor first right now. He was their <em>only </em>doctor with Clarke out of commission for a while. They all needed him to focus on her and they’d pick up the slack in the meantime.</p><p>Eventually she’d thank him and tell him how proud she was. Ya know, when she could manage an actual one-on-one conversation with the guy again without it being unbearably awkward.</p><p>Levitt delivered the “report” Murphy had so <em>kindly </em>demanded before showing the three parents what he’d shown Octavia about troubleshooting the incubators and when to add nutrients if necessary.</p><p>Octavia was in the middle of telling Marcellus about how his Uncle Bellamy helped name him when the group reappeared without her noticing. They all stood back and just listened until she finished. Nobody had wanted to be the one to interrupt what they saw as a rare moment of vulnerability for Octavia Blake.</p><p>Emori was the first one brave enough to interrupt. “Marcellus?” she asked, a small, open smile gracing her lips.</p><p>Levitt took that as his cue to stroll over towards Octavia and their child, his face beaming with obvious pride. “Marcellus Ethan Blake. We decided it was time for the little guy to have his own identity to get used to.”</p><p>Octavia couldn’t help but to stare at Levitt in awe. His devotion to their little boy and support of her through all of this has been so far beyond anything she ever could have expected or hoped for.</p><p>7-year-old Octavia would <em>definitely </em>approve.</p><p>Miller cleared his throat and managed to catch Octavia’s gaze for a fleeting moment before looking back to the incubator next to her.</p><p>“He would’ve liked that,” Miller said without explanation. The hurt that flashed across Octavia’s eyes reaffirmed to him that no explanation had been needed.</p><p>Octavia just nodded in response, her own eyes floating back to Levitt and their son.</p><p>“Marcellus,” Murphy let the name roll off his tongue. “Sounds very <em>Bellamy Blake </em>to me,” he smirked. “For what it’s worth, Octavia, I’m sure he’d approve,” Murphy added.</p><p>“What?” he asked as he was met with a room full of shocked faces all aimed his way.</p><p>“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Murphy,” Octavia snorted in disbelief.</p><p>“Or anyone,” Emori joked. “I knew this whole dad thing would make you soft, John.” She winked victoriously at her boyfriend.</p><p>Murphy raised his hands defensively. “Forget it. Being nice isn’t worth it if you guys are gonna be all weird about it.”</p><p>Miller laughed and clapped his hand roughly against Murphy’s back, everyone laughing at Murphy’s visible wince in response.</p><p>“Relax, Murphy, you know we love you. <em>Now,</em>” Miller clarifies, causing another round of laughter to break out.</p><p>Murphy shrugs the other man off. “Yeah, I’m really feeling the love,” he grumbles.</p><p>Jackson enters the room and Levitt, Miller, and Octavia pull him aside to fill the doctor in, leaving Murphy and Emori alone by their son’s incubator.</p><p>Murphy turned towards Emori and found her eyes shifting intently between the baby and the monitor attached to his incubator.</p><p>Murphy peeked over her shoulder and was relieved to see the familiar blue that signaled everything was okay with the kid.</p><p>“Shot of moonshine for your thoughts?” he asked Emori, the worry behind the question well concealed.</p><p>Emori just kept staring at the screen like it offended her or something. “He needs a name too, John. He needs an <em>actual </em>name. We can’t just let him be <strong><em>Embryo 3179 </em></strong>for the rest of his life,” she huffs in frustration.</p><p>Murphy’s eyebrows shoot up damn near his hairline as he purses his lips and blows out air, the sound resembling one an annoyed horse would make.</p><p>Kid doesn’t even have a complete nose yet and Emori’s suddenly hellbent on naming him. Not exactly a conversation he expected to have this early into gestation…or this early in the morning.</p><p>He sighed in resignation as he took in the determined set of her jaw. They weren’t just naming the kid today – they were naming him <em>now</em>.</p><p>Murphy threw out his hands at the same time he threw out a suggestion. “How about Otan?”</p><p>He wasn’t necessarily crazy about the name, but he wanted to score some brownie points by being the boyfriend who suggested honoring his girlfriend’s dead asshole brother.</p><p>Emori shook her head as a bitter laugh escaped from her. “Otan and I don’t have normal names, John.” Her voice lowered almost guiltily. “And as much as I loved my brother, he’s not exactly someone I’d want to name my child after.”</p><p>Now <em>that </em>was something Murphy could definitely agree with.</p><p>“What about your dad’s name – Alexander?” Emori asked softly. She knew she had to tread lightly with this topic.</p><p>Murphy huffed out his own bitter laugh before shoving his hands in his pockets and taking in the room around him, looking at nothing in particular.</p><p>“He always uh – he always said he made my middle name Alexander because there should only ever be one Alexander Murphy. That every kid deserved their own name and their own chance to tarnish it or make it the stuff of legends.”</p><p>Murphy’s eyes finally settled on the baby in the incubator for the first time since entering the room.</p><p>“It’s a good middle name, though. I speak from experience after all,” he laid a hand on his chest and rocked back slightly as he shot his girlfriend a crooked smile.</p><p>Emori shot her own crooked grin right back at him. “Alexander works for a middle name.”</p><p>The smile drops from her face as she sucks in her bottom lip and worries at it with her teeth. A telltale sign of the woman’s growing nerves over something that’s gone unsaid.</p><p>Murphy rolls his eyes and drops his hands against either thigh with an audible <em>thwack</em>. “Alright, Emori, spit it out,” he says impatiently.</p><p>Emori angles her body away from him. “Bellamy was like a brother to <em>both</em> of us, John.” Her voice was hardly a whisper. “I know there can never be another Bellamy. I wouldn’t want there to be,” she rushes out defensively, “but there can be a Blake Murphy.”</p><p>Her voice trails off and she almost braces herself for a notorious <em>John Murphy meltdown</em>.</p><p>“Blake Alexander Murphy. B.A.M.” Murphy tests the name and initials.</p><p>Normally he’d consider Blake to be too big of a kiss ass name for his liking but knowing the man who’d inspired the name was a total game changer.</p><p><em>B.A.M. </em>Murphy chuckled at the thought. He outright cackled when he saw Emori turn and look at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>It was a Saturday morning and little John Murphy found himself huffing angrily out of his nostrils when he threw himself down on a bunk next to his dad. He crossed tiny arms over his chest, tucked his chin down as far as it would go, and set his face into the deepest scowl a 6-year-old could manage.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex Murphy covered his laugh with a cough before turning to face his son on the bunk.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Alright, Johnny; I’ll bite. What’s got you all huffy and puffy this morning?” Alex asked. His voice was rough and gravelly after so many years at his post in Farm Station. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Turns out chemicals weren’t that easy on the lungs. Who knew? But the Council didn’t care so long as they saw results. Workers were a dime a dozen. Alex was reminded of just how invaluable he was every day he reported for his shift.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Murphy tried to draw his eyebrows even tighter together but only managed to make his lips stick out in a pout that was too cute to serve its intended purpose. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“All the other kids call me Murphy ‘cuz there’s another kid in my class named Johnny too.” The little boy tried to grunt after each word to emphasize just how much this displeased him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex hummed placatingly. “Ah, I see. So this other kid got dibs on being Johnny, huh?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Murphy whipped his head around to look at his dad like he’d just asked the stupidest question ever.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Nobody gets to be John!” the little boy yelped in offense. “He’s Em-bag or however you say it. It’s some weird last name.” Murphy threw himself back against the bunk again.</em>
</p><p><em>“But </em>you’re <em>the only Jonathan Murphy, just like </em>I’m <em>the only Alexander Murphy, right?” Alex eyed his son expectantly.</em></p><p>
  <em>Murphy turned his head slowly this time, his pout changing into a frown of confusion.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah. So?” The whine in his voice from earlier was gone and replaced with pure childish curiosity. </em>
</p><p><em>“Well, your mom and I wanted you to have your own name. To be your own person. There may be other Johns out there, Johnny, but there will only ever be </em>one <em>Jonathan Murphy. I promise you that.” </em></p><p>
  <em>The man dipped his head to be level with that of his son’s as matching blue eyes stared back at him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex reached behind him and grabbed for the small tablet that served as a remote. With one tap of the touchscreen, a small, square image projected on the wall in front of them. It was no bigger than 12 inches around all sides, but it was more than what people in Factory Station had.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man glanced at the small clock on the wall and kept pressing the screen until he found what he was looking for.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>At the sound of a loud “Yabba Dabba Doo!”, Murphy looked up at the image in front of him. The small smile he so desperately tried to fight eventually won the battle when he was greeted with the sight of Bamm Bamm appearing with his club.</em>
</p><p><em>Bamm Bamm was Murphy’s favorite character </em>ever<em>, which worried the boy’s mom, but his dad never saw any harm in it. It made his son happy, and the little giggle he heard next to him would never be a bad thing in Alex’s eyes.</em></p><p>-</p><p>“My dad and I used to practice this old Earth tradition of watching Saturday morning cartoons. We could access a lot of stuff that aired on TV back before the original bombs hit,” he explained.</p><p>“Our favorite was one called <em>The Flintstones</em>. It was about these families who lived in the prehistoric stone age days on Earth. Basically like Grounders only they actually had a sense of humor.” Murphy shrugged off Emori’s glare.</p><p>“This one family, the Rubbles, I <em>swear </em>that was their actual last name on the show – anyway, they had a son named Bamm Bamm who was my favorite because he carried a club and damn sure knew how to use it.”</p><p>Murphy smiled at one of the few memories left from his childhood he could actually smile about.</p><p>His smile turned to a sly grin as he finished his little story. “Did I mention Bamm Bamm was also adopted?”</p><p>Emori’s eyes widened at the implication before she smiled her typical mischievous smile.</p><p>“We’re not putting Bam Bam on the screen, John.”</p><p>“It’s shorter than Blake Alexander Murphy, and you already know what I’ll be calling the kid...” Murphy met her challenge head on with one of his own.</p><p>Emori rolled her eyes as she relented, but her smile was as wide as he’d ever seen as <strong><em>Embryo 3179 </em></strong>flashed for the last time before <strong><em>Bam Bam </em></strong>took its place.</p><p>Murphy just smirked and held up his hand for a high five; a high five Emori immediately delivered as her excitement finally trumped her mock annoyance.</p><p>Not long after the chime rang out from Bam Bam’s monitor, Jackson and Miller made their way over to the pair – Octavia and Levitt presumably having retired to their room to get some sleep.</p><p>“Bam Bam?” Miller snorted as he peeked over Murphy’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of the new name on the tablet.</p><p>“Watch it, Miller. I guarantee Bitch Ass Motherfucker here will kick your nameless kid’s ass one day.” Murphy levied a mock glare and cocky grin towards the other man.</p><p>Jackson’s hand automatically found its way to Miller’s chest in an effort to hold his hot-tempered boyfriend back.</p><p>The doctor looked to Emori, knowing she’d be his only chance at a sensible answer right now.</p><p>Emori met his gaze with a small smile. “Blake Alexander Murphy, aka Bam Bam, apparently.”</p><p>Jackson nodded in understanding and felt the tension leave Miller’s chest under his hand that still rested there.</p><p>Jackson noted that Miller’s voice was significantly softer when he spoke. It was almost the tone he used in bed with Jack as they dreamt of a future they could only hope would come to pass.</p><p>“He’d like that, but I know you don’t need me to tell you that. Anyway, our kid isn’t nameless, for your information."</p><p>Murphy spared a glance to the incubator where Miller was headed. “Ah, yes. <strong><em>Embryo 3178 </em></strong>has a real ring to it, Miller.”</p><p>Miller’s face just hardened in concentration as he erased the identification number and started typing something in its place.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Miller had just flopped into the bunk he’d scooted next to Jackson’s when he heard the man let out a long sigh beside him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t think you’ll be able to sleep either, huh?” Miller asked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jackson rolled towards him. “I should be there, Nate. I’m a doctor, for crying out loud.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Miller hid a smile at the pout on his boyfriend’s face. “Yeah, babe, but Levitt’s spent his entire life working with this type of breeding system. He was the main reason we successfully moved the babies here. Do NOT tell Raven I said that.” Miller added with wide eyes.</em>
</p><p><em>Raven was the </em>last <em>person he wanted to piss off out of their limited remaining population.</em></p><p>
  <em>“Well what are we supposed to do until our shift, huh? Because I sure as hell won’t be sleeping.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Miller sighed. Jackson may as well have made that “I” a “we,” because they both knew damn well that Miller wouldn’t be getting any sleep if Jackson wasn’t.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wanna look through that book you grabbed from Sanctum?” Miller asked hopefully.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jackson was practically up and out of bed before Miller finished the thought. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He dropped back down into his bunk with a thud as he flipped to find the book’s index. Miller watched as Jackson’s eyes suddenly stopped scanning the page and lit up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Miller scooted himself into a seated position to get a better look at the book. “What is it, Jack?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There’s a section on naming your child. If we’re going to sit up thinking about the baby, we may as well do something constructive with our time besides worrying.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Miller frowned as another thought hit him. “Isn’t it a little, I don’t know, early, to be doing that sort of thing?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Miller immediately regretted the words as he took in Jackson’s scowl. “Any ideas on a first name?” He tried to back track and do a little damage control.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His efforts worked as Jack’s expression became wistful. “Did I ever tell you what lead to my becoming a doctor?” Jackson asked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Miller’s face scrunched in confusion at the abrupt change in topic.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You once mentioned that you’d originally tested into Farm Station when our crops started dying before the Dark Year, but nothing beyond that.” </em>
</p><p><em>That little tidbit of information had really knocked Miller for a loop. It felt impossible to imagine Jack as anything other than </em>Dr. <em>Jackson. Farm Station also probably wouldn’t have made their bedroom roleplay as gratifying, Miller mused.</em></p><p>
  <em>Jackson’s face was neutral, his voice steady, but the glossiness of his eyes gave away the true depth of his emotions, as always. Anyone could tell how the man felt simply by looking into the eyes that gave everything away. They truly were the window to Jack’s soul.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My mother died from a brain aneurysm,” Jackson stated as he stared blankly at the wall across from him.</em>
</p><p><em>Miller just remained silent. His boyfriend rarely ever talked about his mother, and </em>never <em>mentioned her death.</em></p><p>
  <em>“Dr. Urick, the Chief of Medical before Abby took over, was on call that night. He pronounced my mother dead minutes before her heart stopped beating.” Jackson’s bitterness almost scared Miller coming from his normally soft-spoken boyfriend.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I demanded to see her body the next day. Demanded to see the death report. Abby was on call by then, and she pulled me into her office before I could draw the guard’s attention to me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The first crack in his voice was like a crack in Miller’s heart.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She told me that she’d reviewed my mother’s death report earlier that morning, and, if I sat quietly, she’d give me something that would help me understand. She added that it wasn’t something that would help my mother, but maybe it could help others from ending up like her one day.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She explained that my mother had suffered something called an aneurysm of the brain, and then she pulled out this old, worn book written over a century ago by a Dr. Duke Samson. He literally wrote the book on aneurysm removal. He was regarded as one of the most brilliant neurosurgeons of his time, maybe ever.” Jackson explained with an air of respect in his tone. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Abby told me that Dr. Urick didn’t believe in studying what he called ‘ancient medical techniques,’ so he disregarded Dr. Samson’s practices and my mother died because of his arrogance.” The respect was now replaced with disgust.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Even though Abby was a trauma surgeon, she’d read the book several times already. She said any good surgeon or doctor in general needed to be open-minded and a jack of all trades. She made it her duty to study every aspect of medicine that she could from any time period at her disposal.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She tossed the book in front of me on her desk, and I read it from cover to cover in less than two days. I requested a retest, tested into medical, and Dr. Abby Griffin insisted I act as her apprentice. She fought for me before the Council and won. She gave me my profession and new purpose, Nate.” Jackson finished in a whisper, a single tear rolling down his cheek.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Miller made sure his voice was just as soft when he finally spoke. “You know, Samson means ‘sun’ in Hebrew. My mother was fluent in the language as it was part of her heritage. Our son will be greeted by the sun every day of his life – something we never had as kids.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jackson looked to Miller with hope in his tear-filled eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She also told me the story of Samson from the Book of Judges. He was the strongest man in biblical times. I’d like to think that our son will be bright and strong, so it’s only fitting that he has a name with both meanings. A name that also honors two women so important to his dad…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’d agree to that, Nate?” Jackson practically yelled as he shifted in his seat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Miller laughed. “Of course I would, Jack. It’s a badass name to begin with. Add the history and meaning, and it’s perfect for our kid. I do have one condition, though,” Miller concluded seriously.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jackson’s hands flew up in surrender. “Anything. Name it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My dad – he never let on that he was ever disappointed after he, ya know, found out about…me,” Miller watched Jackson nod knowingly, “but I did overhear him tell my mom that he’d always hoped the family name would carry on. He told her he didn’t know how that would be possible. That was the only time I’d ever heard my dad express sadness or regret about my sexuality.” Miller cleared a sob from his throat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jackson, seeing how emotional his love was getting, said, “He can be a Miller, Nate. I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jackson smiled a toothy grin.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hearing that broke Miller’s dam, and he found himself sobbing in his boyfriend’s embrace. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>While being held, Miller heard, “I call Jackson as the middle name, though,” and laughed through his tears.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Samson Jackson Miller. A strong boy who’d be as bright as the sun. A boy who’d know exactly where he came from – even down to the non-biological mentors. </em>
</p><p>-</p><p><strong><em>Samson </em></strong>flashed across the screen now and Jackson got emotional just seeing the name in print.</p><p>Murphy caught sight of the name, nodded once at Miller, and turned back towards his own son.</p><p>“Son, meet your cousin, Sammy.” Murphy pointed in the direction of the tank next to Bam’s.</p><p>Miller couldn’t even manage to be annoyed at the nickname as he grinned right back at his old new friend.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Raven and Clarke had just gotten settled in seats near the incubators. Jackson had argued that Clarke should be in medical or at least in her room, but Raven waved off his concerns and reminded the man that Clarke was still <em>Clarke</em>. She couldn’t just be left in one room like a houseplant or something.</p><p>Clarke was grateful that Raven was speaking up for her. Not having to argue with Jackson did wonders for her blood pressure. She didn’t even protest as Jackson wrapped the cuff around her upper right arm. It was set to automatically read her pressure whenever her heart rate reached a certain level.</p><p>Normally Clarke would’ve found this to be overkill and highly unnecessary, but the feel of the paper images of that grey sphere in her left hand had her doing just about anything and everything Jackson demanded.</p><p>Raven sauntered about the room, arms crossed, making faces at the names she saw on each of the monitors. Clarke noticed the brunette’s exaggerated eyeroll at Murphy’s son’s name.</p><p>“Leave it to Murphy to put <em>that</em>,” she pointed to the name on the screen, “as a label for his kid.” She crossed her arms again as she shook her head.</p><p>Clarke just took in every detail of the embryo closest to her. The name <strong><em>Marcellus </em></strong>flashed just below her line of sight, letting her know this was Octavia and Levitt’s son. Her eyes traced the small curve of his forming skull down to the little nubs that would become ten fingers and ten toes.</p><p>She knew the fetuses, which is technically what they were now, were eight weeks ahead of her own pregnancy, putting them at twelve weeks gestation. Clarke wanted to remember every last detail of these moments for when she reached this point with Madi.</p><p>She could hardly wait to see tiny arms and legs on the sonography machine. Clarke’s heart swelled at the very thought of Madi actually taking the shape of a baby. She knew she’d be even more of a blubbering mess the second she was able to make out any distinct features.</p><p>She pressed the heartbeat symbol on the screen and was greeted by the fast flutter of Marcellus’s heartbeat. She felt her own heart rate increase slightly in panic at how fast the tiny heartbeat was. The calm blue of the monitor told her all was well, but her maternal instincts were in overdrive since finding out she was pregnant.</p><p>Clarke looked down the row at the other two baby boys floating safely in their own incubators. For a brief moment she wishes she could watch Madi like this. She imagines what it would be like to be able to watch every stage of her child’s development through a transparent pane of glass.</p><p>The thought leaves immediately when she realizes that she wouldn’t be able to feel everything she’s going to feel. She wouldn’t be able to experience the hiccups, kicks, and little movements of her baby if she were in front of her instead of tucked safely away inside of her.</p><p>While Emori and Octavia could watch their babies develop day after day, Clarke got to <em>truly </em>experience it. Sure, the other two women would avoid all the morning sickness, weight gain, swelling, hormonal changes, and all the other symptoms, but they all felt worth it to Clarke if it meant having a bond with Madi that ran deeper than she ever knew to be possible.</p><p>Looking at the babies before her now, she can’t help but wonder what would’ve become of them had her friends not returned. Would she have taken on all three infants while trying to see herself through the rest of her own pregnancy? Would she have had to stay on Bardo and give birth there? Would she even make it to term on her own under those circumstances?</p><p>Clarke felt herself shudder as the cuff started to tighten around her upper arm. She looked to the monitor and saw her heart rate had well surpassed the limit Jackson had set and had to fight down her natural urge to panic. That would <em>certainly </em>only make things worse.</p><p>At the sound of Clarke’s heartbeat echoing along with Marcellus’s throughout the room, Raven was instantly by the blonde’s side. Worry etched on every inch of the brunette’s normally smooth features.</p><p>“Do we need to go? Should I get Jackson? Whatever it is you’re thinking about that’s got you like this, stop it. Just stop it,” Raven commanded like that was a simple feat.</p><p>Clarke’s brow remained wrinkled as she concentrated on the monitor attached to her cuff. 126/82. Not in the danger zone, but higher than she or Jackson would like. Raven was right about one thing – she needed to stop thinking about what ifs. Her priority was here and now, and that consisted of only one baby she needed to keep alive.</p><p>Clarke heard Raven join her in her deep breathing and couldn’t help but smile. Clarke knew the mechanic was campaigning for godmother, but she also knew that her friend would be doing this for Clarke anyway. <em>That’s what best friends do, after all</em>, Raven had once said.</p><p>Once Clarke’s heartrate slowed to normal beat, Raven took the opportunity to stand and stroll around the incubators again. The blonde was content just comparing the images of the grey sphere to the fetus in the incubator in front of her. Her amazement at the differences was interrupted by Raven’s loud musings.</p><p>“It’s kind of a bummer, don’t you think?”</p><p>Clarke frowned deeply in response.</p><p>“I mean that aliens essentially named your kid,” Raven clarified. She motioned her arms to the incubators around them. “I mean these babies all have names that mean something to the parents, no matter how <em>ridiculous </em>one of them may sound.” She flashed her gaze pointedly towards Bam Bam’s incubator.</p><p>Clarke watched the brunette’s movements for a few more seconds. “I know <em>exactly</em> where Madi’s name came from,” she stated with an edge to her voice that caused Raven to jump.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Her dad’s 40<sup>th</sup> birthday was coming up in just two weeks. She’d been planning his gift for over two months now. She rarely gave her parents gifts for their birthdays, but she knew this was a big one for her dad and she wanted to help make it special.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Growing up with strict rationing and repurposing laws due to such limited resources, she always had to get creative with her gifts. Wells had managed to get her some charcoal and she’d traded her favorite pair of shoes to a man from Factory Station. He had a piece of sheet metal she needed and he just so happened to have a daughter that shared her shoe size.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wells helped her cut and curl a strip of the thin sheet metal in order to fashion it into a tool strong enough to etch into the metal without cutting completely through it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She had been sketching since she was about six years old, but she’d never taken on a project of this magnitude or made anything come to life on a metal surface. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d grown up hearing the story just like her dad and his dad and her mom had before her. Jake Griffin was one of the rare remaining people on The Ark who could definitively trace his lineage back to Earth before the bombs. His great grandmother had been a part of a world that didn’t have a water crisis or the impending threat of a nuclear meltdown.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d also lived long enough to make it to The Ark with her son. She was famous for her stories of Earth during its prime. But her most infamous, detailed story also happened to be Jake Griffin’s favorite.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke grew up hearing the story word for word. Her dad described the deep wood beams that met in the middle of the impossibly high, expansive ceiling. A ceiling so high that it didn’t even feel like you were indoors. The straight wood beams had large circles interspersed within the design. Clarke could picture it every time she laid on the floor and looked at her own ceiling.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was an insanely bright 4-way projector that floated down from the middle of the ceiling so that it could be seen from any and every angle. It magnified whoever was on the stage at the time – enlarging their image so that everyone could see the performance like it was right in front of them. If that wasn’t enough, two additional projectors hovered on either side of a stage.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beams of light would shoot in every which direction out over a crowd of thousands, all seated in a rounded fashion that surrounded the performer in all-encompassing circle of cheers and applause. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke had heard the story so many times that she could close her eyes and be there. She could imagine herself walking towards the building from a distance, seeing the vertical columns of light greeting her from a building that had no corners. She’d finally see the outdoor projector and reach the doors. She could feel the energy of the crowd as she entered and the lights danced over her and the crowd.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was electric.</em>
</p><p><em>She could see how it had been her dad’s favorite story because it was </em>her <em>favorite story as well.</em></p><p>
  <em>And she was determined to bring that story to life for him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She used the charcoal to outline the outside of the building first. Once she had it perfect, she’d use her tool to etch the lines into the metal and wipe the remaining charcoal away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When the exterior of the building was finished, she flipped to the other side and started outlining the interior in charcoal. It took her days to get the perspective right. She wanted the viewer to feel like they were standing in the very top row, looking down at the expansive crowded stadium before them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When she finished etching and wiping the charcoal away, she etched “<strong>Happy 40<sup>th</sup>, Dad</strong>” just underneath of the interior image. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Taking one last satisfied look at her handiwork, 12-year-old Clarke realized there was one thing missing. She etched “<strong>Madison Square Garden</strong>” just above the 4-way jumbotron before setting her etching tool down for the final time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her dad cried when she gave it to him. He held a tightly cupped hand against his mouth for several minutes as the tears continued to fall and the sniffles continued to sound. Abby had put a comforting arm around her alarmed daughter, knowing her husband was too emotional to speak.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Once he finally moved his hand away from his mouth, Clarke heard a croaked, “Come here, kid.” That was all she needed to go barreling into her father’s open free arm.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He mumbled, “This is the single greatest thing ever created, right after you,” into the top of her blonde head.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She just hugged him tighter, her own tears squeezing out at the effort.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She felt a laugh rumble through his chest right before he said, “Unless you have a kid of your own one day. That would be the only thing that could tie for first place in my book.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke just smiled and relished the feeling of warmth that always came while being buried in her father’s chest.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The “second greatest thing ever created” found its way into Jake Griffin’s safe. That was one piece of metal he wasn’t willing to sacrifice to the cause of repurposing.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Clarke finished the story with even more tears than she had that day. Raven’s own eyes were shimmering as she looked at Clarke in awe.</p><p>“Those aliens <em>seriously </em>did their research,” Raven mused.</p><p>Clarke just looked down to her hand at the familiar grey sphere she now had memorized.</p><p>“Madison Abigail Griffin – the single greatest thing ever created,” she whispered with a smile through her tears. Both her parents would be honored through her daughter's name.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Also sorry I didn't respond to each individual comment. It's something I normally like to do to make sure my readers know that I'm reading everything you have to say. </p><p>Any thoughts on that practice? I can keep doing it if you'd like or stop if you find it annoying. Let me know either way. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Attachments & Divides</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everyone settles into new roles while letting go of some of the past. Jackson makes plans for one baby while Clarke makes some big plans of her own.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>**Trigger Warning**<br/>Minor mentions of cruelty and child abuse. Proceed with caution.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been almost a week since <em>“The Real Naming Day”</em>, as Murphy had dubbed it, and the boys (because saying <em>fetuses </em>nonstop was just <em>weird</em> for everyone) were now in their thirteenth week of gestation while Clarke had entered her fifth week of pregnancy.</p><p>The first couple of days had been rocky – everyone was struggling to find or adjust to their new roles. A rotation schedule for the <em>gestation room</em> had been established, and all three sets of parents settled nicely into the routine after not too long.</p><p>While the three couples were seemingly situated, the rest of the group established their own routines and jobs to make their survival safer and provide more stability for the more vulnerable members. They were also trying to feel out Earth’s new terrain to use it to their advantage and hopefully map out a long-term plan to build above ground.</p><p>Windows in bedrooms would be nice, after all – especially for those who spent the majority of their lives in space or years trapped underground.</p><p>Raven, when she wasn’t fussing over Clarke, worked on perfecting the bunker to make it as comfortable and efficient as possible. Heat, air conditioning, and a purified water source leading right to the bunker were all functioning within days. Jordan acted as her assistant and started engineering plans for the above ground builds.</p><p>Eventually Niylah and Gaia teamed up to identify, collect, and log more herbs and edible vegetation in their free time. Gaia dried and cured the meats that Echo and Indra hunted while Niylah used the pelts and other spare parts to create more clothing, blankets, and other accessories. Hope, having grown up in a planet lacking actual game to hunt, was in charge of catching and preparing various types of fish as well as keeping the fires going on the beach.</p><p>This, of course, was all achieved after <em>The Great Task</em>, as Niylah had called it.</p><p>-</p><p><em>Gaia, Niylah, Indra, and Hope had taken a day to head to Bardo and Sanctum to burn the bodies of those who didn’t transcend. The only bodies left on Bardo were of those that Clarke had killed during her rampageous mission to get to Cadogan. The women simply poured gasoline over the trail of bodies, lit a match, and muttered a collective, apathetic “Yu gonplei ste odon” </em>before heading back to the stone.</p><p><em>Their more important journey that day would take much longer and carry more emotion with it. Everyone had agreed that they couldn’t just travel back and forth to Sanctum with <strong>his</strong> body lying </em>right there<em>. They also didn’t want to leave the other bodies to rot in the throne room or in the nuclear reactor. If they were going to be popping in and out of the planet, they didn’t need corpses scattered everywhere – especially once the children arrived. </em></p><p>
  <em>Indra and Gaia were gathering the bodies of the Grounders from the nuclear reactor. No matter how things ended with Knight and other former Sangedakru members, Indra wouldn’t deny the men of a Grounder burial. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Niylah and Hope stayed in the throne room to separate The Disciple guardsmen from Bellamy. All of the bodies would be burned together, but The Disciples’ bodies would be burned on a platform above Bellamy’s. Their beliefs and cause were what killed him, after all. They’d be burned for the killers they were, regardless of if they’d ever physically taken a life or not. Just like Finn’s body was burned atop the eighteen innocents he’d massacred in Trikru’s village all those years before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hope was doing her best to take extra special care of Bellamy’s body, having promised her aunt and Echo that the man would be treated with dignity and respect. The younger woman had volunteered to accompany the three Grounder women when she saw the pained look on Octavia’s face at the mention of the disposal of Bellamy’s body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Echo had said that somebody had to keep the food stores up and the fires stoked in the absence of so many people. Nobody offered to trade places with her. They all knew the real reason she wasn’t setting foot back on Sanctum. Octavia offered an even more valid excuse of making sure Marcellus and Levitt were all settled on Earth, having been there not even a full day by the time the group decided to take the trip. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Neither woman was questioned nor blamed. There were no lectures about closure or regret. Their decisions were made and that was that. They’d say their goodbyes in their own way, had they not already done so.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a large wooden scaffold already propped against one of the shipping containers. Apparently the Sanctumites had been in the midst of fashioning a third story onto two stacked containers, so the scaffold was tall, wide, and long. The perfect size to hold the bodies of the few Disciples on the top rack, the Grounders in the middle, and Bellamy on the very bottom – closest to where the women would stand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>After a lot of sweating, grunting, cursing, and labored breathing, the four women had finally managed to situate the bodies in the layout as planned. Each body was only covered with a sheet instead of being completely wrapped. Bellamy was now sporting a t-shirt and pants under his sheet; the white robe had been removed and soaked in gasoline to wrap around the torch.</em>
</p><p><em>Gasoline was taken from the machine shop and poured all over the structure that held the bodies. Grounder burials </em>never saw <em>the bodies lit directly. Indra was getting ready to tap the flaming torch against the soaked wood when a scream broke out across the quad.</em></p><p>
  <em>“WAIT!” Octavia was running at full speed towards the scene, her hair whipping wildly behind her in her haste. She came to a halt just a few feet from them, her eyes trained on the few dark tendrils poking out beneath the sheet she knew had to be covering her brother’s body. She was panting from the exertion and clearly hadn’t planned to be here, but the blotchy red marks covering her cheeks told the women that this was something Octavia had to do. Something she’d agonized over. Something that she’d deeply regret missing had she not made it in time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Indra gently held the torch out to her former protégé as the brunette slowly made her way forward, the tears running steadily down her swollen face. Her eyes never left that one visible patch of hair as she grabbed the torch and bent down within reach of the man. She held the torch away from her body and the scaffold as she used her free hand to peel back the sheet just enough to uncover Bellamy’s face.</em>
</p><p><em>Octavia let out a short, loud wail at what she saw. He was so </em>pale<em>. Bellamy had </em>never <em>been pale. Not a day in his life. A life, she remembered, that was now over. Her brother died the day that portal opened to Etherea – this was just a delayed burial, she reminded herself.</em></p><p>
  <em>She pushed back his messy bangs and the tears that had curved towards her mouth felt like they turned to ice as her lips met his cold forehead. </em>
</p><p><em>“In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to whatever comes next. We </em>will <em>meet again. I love you, big brother,” she whispered fiercely to Bellamy’s still face as her hand lingered in his hair for just a moment longer.</em></p><p>
  <em>When she finally rose back to her full height, the others stepped forward as Octavia set the torch against the wood, watching as the structure quickly ignited in flames.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A mixture of “Yu gonplei ste odon” and “May we meet again” echoed around the brunette as she felt Hope’s head rest against her shoulder while she</em>
  <em> watched the fire engulf her brother’s body.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>As everyone became more engrossed in their own tasks, a detachment started to form amongst the group – a divide growing like a crack in the Earth between the three couples and the rest of their little patchwork family.</p><p>Outside of Jackson monitoring Clarke’s condition and Raven, Echo, or Gaia running to him with more questions and updates, the parents of the boys were pretty isolated from everyone else.</p><p>There technically didn’t even need to be constant supervision of the incubators. Life support was designed to do just that, sustain life, and aside from manually adding different nutrients to the recyclers, the incubators themselves needed no further interference or monitoring.</p><p>Actually, with the alert system Raven had rigged to each recycler and individual incubator, the babies technically didn’t need to be monitored at all.</p><p>But that didn’t stop the six impending parents from spending their every waking moment in that room.</p><p>Jackson physically examined Bam Bam’s facial features as best as he could through the glass and layers of viscous fluid. It didn’t help that said fetus was smaller than the length of Jackson’s fist, so the features were still nearly microscopic to the naked eye.</p><p>There was a little red exclamation mark clashing against the calm blue in the corner of the baby’s monitor. A symbol that the other two screens didn’t have. When Jackson first clicked on that little red mark, he knew he’d failed to school his expression in time when Emori demanded to know what was wrong.</p><p>Bam Bam did indeed have a cleft lip, as they’d suspected, but he also had a cleft palate. One that ran right down the middle of the roof of his mouth, which was where Murphy had originally noticed the parting of the lip. The gap was a tad smaller than grain of rice at the moment due to the child’s early stage of development.</p><p>A cleft lip and palate to one side or the other was relatively rare in and of itself, but one in the middle was the rarest – and the most difficult to treat – according to the birth defects section of one of the textbooks Jackson had grabbed from Sanctum.</p><p>He’d never actually treated a cleft palate before…or any birth defect, for that matter. Medical supply rationing was the strictest of the strict on The Ark. Medical supplies and medications were considered even more valuable than food and human life combined.</p><p>There was also a reason for the child’s deformity. According to the details provided regarding the baby’s DNA, Bam Bam had a defect in the twenty second chromosome. Something apparently called DiGeorge syndrome – a syndrome Jackson had never heard of – meaning he had no idea what the extent of the child’s problems could be.</p><p>Sonography was actually only something that was done every couple of years to help train new doctors on The Ark. Before the transvaginal ultrasound he’d performed on Clarke, Jackson had only ever seen it performed on a pregnant “subject.” Ultrasound had mainly been used for trauma surgeries to locate internal bleeding or other abnormalities in vital internal organs.</p><p>With most pregnancies only consisting of semi-regular checks of the mother’s vitals, any abnormalities usually weren’t detected until birth. Even if they had been, abortions utilized resources that couldn’t be spared, so the mother would often have to carry to term only to lose her child anyway.</p><p>Once a child was delivered and found to have a birth defect, they were typically floated depending on the severity of the condition. It all depended on how much resources their condition would require going forward.</p><p>If the newborn ended up being floated, the parents would be stripped of their ability to try for another child. The birth itself typically already used up the allotted medical resources for that family. The same rules applied for most miscarriages and all stillbirths.</p><p>Nobody ever said life on The Ark was perfect or fair, but Jackson hadn’t realized the true depth of their cruelty until he examined Clarke after they returned. He’d personally never had to deliver that news to a mother while in space, but he couldn’t imagine having to do that to Clarke or Madi.</p><p>Looking at Bam Bam that first time made him almost <em>glad </em>that they’d be the last of the human race. It turns out it was possible to go <em>too far</em> in the name of survival, and humans had been crossing that line for far too long.</p><p>For a brief moment, he felt a ping of resentment towards Abby. For the way she had seemingly been able to do <em>that</em>. But then his feelings quickly melted into guilt as he remembered that she handled all of <em>that</em> so he didn’t have to. She was always looking out for him, even when he didn’t recognize or appreciate her efforts.</p><p>Although it did mean he was flying almost completely blind now when it came to dealing with the child in the incubator on the end. His facial expression contradicted the positive note in his voice as he explained a heavily watered-down version of the situation to Murphy and Emori.</p><p>Murphy stormed off.</p><p>Emori demanded that Jackson do something – <em>anything</em>.</p><p>And Jackson poured over all the books he had.</p><p>He may have never dealt with a case like this before, or even operated on someone so <em>small</em>, but bone was bone and tissue was tissue. Jackson knew human anatomy. He knew the most complex and precise surgical techniques. And he knew he’d be damned if he let three boys drop to only two.</p><p>By the end of the week, he had a tentative plan. He couldn’t safely perform any reconstructive surgery until Bam Bam was at least six months old. So, to ensure the infant had the necessary nutrition after birth and until he could operate, Jackson was going to place a G-tube into the boy’s stomach immediately following birth. That way they could safely get formula into the child so he could gain and maintain that weight. He’d also be placed on oxygen and have his sinuses regularly checked and irrigated until the big procedure.</p><p>It was going to involve around the clock care for the baby, so Jackson would have to train both Murphy, Emori, and at least one other individual on the steps to take. If there was any luck left in the world, they’d all have it down in time before Clarke went into labor and Jackson was needed there.</p><p>Hopefully that labor would be quick, safe, uneventful and end with baby Madi arriving as the fourth and final healthy baby. There being only three babies was not a thought Jackson was willing entertain. He knew everyone else would feel the same way.</p><p>In the meantime, Jackson had two parents to try and reassure, a syndrome to learn about, and a high-risk pregnancy to treat. Ironically enough, Clarke was the only person he could turn to for help with this matter, but he had to be mindful of her stress levels and the limitations <em>he </em>had imposed.</p><p>He’d casually mentioned the situation to the blonde a couple of days prior and she immediately sprung into action, just as he’d anticipated. As a compromise, he gave her some reading material and asked her to learn more about DiGeorge syndrome, what the potential symptoms could be, what the general life expectancy was, and if there’s any established treatments for it. He’d be looking into it himself as well, but he’d learned from Abby that two brilliant medical minds were better than one.</p><p>Before he concluded his little checkup for that morning, he also confided in Clarke about a shift he felt forming in the group. It turns out that she’d already picked up on it and, of course, proposed a plan. She was still Clarke Griffin, after all, so he wasn’t exactly surprised that she was still somehow managing to fix things from the confinement of a bed.</p><p>She told Jackson that parents needed support and peace of mind. The others needed more of a connection. She informed Jackson of her plan and charged him with planting the seed into the heads of the other five parents. She told him to make sure they’d made their choices by the end of the week. She wasn’t going to let this rift fester any longer than that.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Clarke had spent the week reading, watching, wondering, and drawing. She’d blown through <em>What to Expect When You’re Expecting </em>in a matter of days. Jackson would probably regret ever having given her that book with the pages of questions she now had for her next <em>official</em> exam.</p><p>He’ll regret it even more when he finds out that Raven was now reading it and making a list of her own questions and concerns. The brunette declared that, as Madi’s godmother and Clarke’s new roommate, it was her right to know what to expect in <em>“the possible shitstorm” </em>of the months to come.</p><p>Clarke, deciding to take a break from the medical texts she’d also been pouring over, was currently making her way through one of the “parenting prep” books that contained tips on how to mentally prepare for a child and help form more of an attachment by making personalized preparations for the baby.</p><p>Clarke was <em>beyond </em>mentally ready to have her baby back, and she certainly didn’t need any help in the attachment department, but she did like the little tips about decorating and personalizing a baby’s nursery.</p><p>Clarke was one of the few children to have her own bedroom on The Ark. Only residents of Alpha Station had the privilege of having suites containing three rooms. Her parents had their own room, Clarke had hers, and they had a large living room that doubled as a little office space for her parents.</p><p>The memory of how her parents decorated her room flew across her mind before she buried the thought to look towards the future. A future she sketched onto a page that rested in her lap. <em>MADi </em>was spelled out in big, scattered block letters; the <em>M</em> and <em>D</em> being level with one another while the <em>A</em> and <em>i</em> were the same height.</p><p>The <em>M </em>would be bright green with hand painted frogs on either end of the letter. The <em>A </em>would be white with little brown bunnies trailing across the horizontal bar in the letter. Frogs and bunnies had always been Madi’s favorite, although she’d made Clarke pinky swear to say it was something <em>cool </em>like bears or a panther if the blonde’s friends ever asked.</p><p>The little critters didn’t appear until about 6 months after <em>Praimfaya</em>, and their appearances were pretty rare, but Madi would chase them endlessly while doing her best to mimic their hopping with clumsy little jumps of her own.</p><p>The girl had forbidden Clarke from hunting rabbits or setting traps in areas they knew the bunnies preferred to inhabit. Clarke had been all too happy to comply while she’d watched the little brunette child bob up and down with little hands curled down in front of her tiny chest.</p><p>The <em>D </em>would be an inky black with shimmering white speckles all varying in size and brightness to portray the sky on a clear night. Looking up at the night sky was one of Madi’s favorite pastimes when she couldn’t sleep. She’d imagine herself and Clarke up in space or make up stories about what she thought <em>Spacekru </em>was doing at that moment. She did it even more after the five-year mark, and Clarke knew the girl was trying to keep hope alive for both of their sakes.</p><p>The <em>i </em>would be lowercase, because that’s how Madi always wrote her name: MADi, without fail, no matter how many times Clarke had tried to correct her. The girl always dotted her <em>i</em> with her own tiny version of a butterfly, regardless of how old she got or how advanced her artistic talents became.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>At barely 7 years old, Clarke’s little companion had become quite the artist. Madi had been enamored by the drawing of herself that the blonde had gifted her. It was the olive branch that finally earned the child’s trust and allowed a tentative bond to form between the two. </em>
</p><p><em>Luckily, Clarke became fluent in Trig during her 3-months in solitude following the </em>incident <em>at Mount Weather. She only became more proficient during her time spent in Polis amongst the Grounders. </em></p><p>
  <em>Despite that, Madi didn’t care for Clarke’s accent, as the child had let it be known early on. In their first few months together, they’d fallen into other forms of communication. Madi would make gestures like a mime and urge Clarke to draw. The child would study every stroke of Clarke’s charcoal – sometimes even subconsciously moving her own little hand in the air to copy the movements.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madi started trying to communicate with Clarke via marks in the dirt. Clarke offered Madi some of the old paper she’d found and fashioned a miniature version of her own charcoal tool for the child to use. When Madi drew a question mark in the ground – a symbol the woman taught her to use early on – Clarke simply explained that the drawing lessons would be payment for the girl teaching Clarke to fish and making the older woman her own spear.</em>
</p><p><em>That was back in the days before Madi realized that she didn’t have to constantly trade and barter with Clarke to get the woman’s assistance and attention. The child hadn’t realized she’d already had all of that and so much more from the blonde. Clarke would willingly give everything to the girl without fail or stipulation. That was the first time Clarke realized she was able to identify with her own mother on a deeper level. She’d finally not only understood, but </em>felt<em>, what unconditional love was for a child.</em></p><p>
  <em>They’d first worked on sketching their surroundings. Trees, plants – especially the plants. Clarke had been working endlessly on cataloguing the plants, their benefits, and whether or not they were edible. She’d shown Madi those drawings repeatedly to refresh the child’s memory on what plants were safe, etc. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Next, they moved on to critters. While Madi’s favorite animals were rabbits and frogs, butterflies were her favorite to draw. She’d skip after them in the fields of flowers – waiting for them to land so she could get close enough to examine their colors and characteristics. Madi would study the butterflies while Clarke studied Madi, documenting the child’s growth and emerging personality in her own book of sketches of the girl. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke was also giving the girl English lessons that included writing, so the child started writing her name in all sorts of silly ways. She’d sing out its spelling all day around their camp, and Clarke never minded one bit. Her heart swelled with pride and ever-growing love with each note the girl sang.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>After Madi had declared she’d mastered drawing butterflies, she began making the i in her name lowercase, despite always writing the first three letters in all uppercase. Clarke was about to correct her use of mismatched letters for the umpteenth time when she stopped to get a closer look at the child’s work. The girl was dotting her i with the teensiest butterfly the little brunette could manage. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madi started writing her name that way on the bottom of each of her sketches, and Clarke never tried to correct her again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Since there weren’t many options in terms of people for Madi to draw, Clarke offered to draw Madi pictures of her parents based off of the girl’s descriptions. Much to the child’s obvious dismay, she couldn’t seem to remember what they looked like. When Clarke asked leading questions like if her mother’s hair had been dark like the girl’s, Madi simply shrugged her shoulders and remained silent.</em>
</p><p><em>Clarke, realizing that it </em>had <em>been almost a year since Praimfaya by that point, chalked Madi’s poor memory up to the child’s young age and the traumatic way in which the girl lost her parents. Madi never really talked much about them, or anyone from her past for that matter, but Clarke couldn’t blame her. Clarke was technically an adult, and she didn’t want to particularly talk about her father’s death or even think about her mother’s possible permanent entrapment underground.</em></p><p>
  <em>Opting to save drawing people for another time, Clarke finally told Madi the time-honored story that had been cherished by her family for generations now. The little girl hung onto every detail, not being able to fathom a building that large being above ground. Clarke decided to re-create the images from all those years ago so that the child would be able to better visualize the story.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madi watched intently for hours as Clarke’s charcoal glided across the paper at various pressures, creating light and shading simultaneously with the same tool. Clarke had been convinced that the little girl somehow managed to be even more concentrated on the movements than Clarke was. She’d even worried – just a little – that the child’s forehead would prematurely wrinkle after having it creased for so long. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It took two days for Clarke to finish her masterpiece. She’d had to take a break after being overwhelmed by the emotion that accompanied the memory of gifting the original work to her father. The day after she’d finished the piece, she’d started helping Madi draw her own version. She’d place her larger hand atop the girl’s smaller one and guide it over the page, lifting their joined hands ever so slightly to apply lighter pressure where necessary. They’d gotten a good portion of it done in the matter of a day, and Clarke had promised the child they could finish it the following afternoon.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That night, she was startled out of her sleep only to see the horrific sight of an empty bed across from her and felt no warmth of a small bundle beside her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>After a quick, frantic scan of the room, her eyes landed on the dimly lit face of her child sat by the group of candles Clarke always left lit at night. She noticed the familiar tension in the child’s brow and the way her little tongue poked out of a gap – where two teeth had just been lost – in what Clarke knew to be Madi’s most determined face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madi didn’t even look up as Clarke rose from the bed and made her way over to the girl. Clarke, having her curiosity thoroughly piqued, looked down and immediately recognized their drawing from earlier. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>From the looks of it, Madi had apparently been at it for a while, as she was currently writing "MADIson" above what the blonde suspected was supposed to be the child’s attempt at a 4-way jumbotron. That was the last thing Clarke had drawn in her own piece just days prior.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>After Madi finished the word in her own childish attempt at block letters, she set her charcoal down with a sigh much too heavy for someone so little – but the tired smile on the girl’s face told Clarke that it had been a good sigh. A pleased sigh. The blonde knew Madi had stopped after "MADIson" because that was the only word she could spell from memory. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She leaned down, the tears that had welled in her eyes dropping into the girl’s hair, and placed a fierce, long kiss to the top of the child’s head as she took in the girl’s familiar, sweet scent. With a smile that held all the love in the world, Clarke grabbed Madi’s discarded charcoal and quickly drew out “Square Gardens” before taking the little girl into her arms and moving back towards the child’s bed by the window.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When Madi held tighter to Clarke and refused to be deposited on to her little bed, Clarke just smiled and carried her to the blonde’s own bed, the girl finally relaxing enough in Clarke’s grasp to allow the woman to lay her down. Madi always preferred to sleep in Clarke’s bed with her, and Clarke always slept much better with the girl tucked into her side.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Returning back to the present and the sketch in her lap, Clarke feels a smile creep across her face as she remembers how proud she felt that night and realizes just how much more these memories mean to her now that she knows the truth.</p><p>The <em>i </em>will have a small, bright blue butterfly dotting it while the vertical line underneath will be a lighter purple like the fields of lavender the girl used to skip through. Another one of Madi’s favorite places.</p><p><em>Or at least it used to be</em>.</p><p>Her face fell at the thought. What if Madi wasn’t <em>exactly </em>like the Madi she remembered? What if her favorite animals weren’t frogs and bunnies and she preferred to write her name the traditional way?</p><p>Jackson had warned her that there could be differences. That Madi may not have every mark or scar that she’d gotten over the years during their time in the valley. There may even be more of a lightness to her during her early years without six years of fabricated traumas weighing on the child.</p><p>Clarke took a calming breath as she set the sketch aside and picked up the strip of images she always kept within reach. She traced the tiny blob with her finger for the hundredth time. No matter how many times she looked at it, she felt that same feeling of awe like she felt that first time. She would do <em>anything </em>for the being in these images – even if it meant making letters in the correct shape in different colors with different animals one day.</p><p>No matter what Madi liked or didn’t like, she was still her baby just the same. Clarke would relearn every last detail about her child and let Madi be who she wanted to be, not who Clarke thought she had to be. Clarke would love her all the same, of that she had no doubt. She’d told Jackson that Madi had an unbreakable spirit, and Clarke knew that same spirit would still be there no matter what.</p><p>She looked over to the wall where she intended to hang the letters, because <em>of course </em>her room would also be Madi’s room – that part wasn’t changing – and looked back to the sketch of a crib that rested underneath the scattered letters.</p><p>A crib she’d be relying on Raven to build. Actually, with all of the new terms and techniques she’d been reading about, Clarke would need Raven to build quite a few things.</p><p>Clarke intended to do something called “co-sleeping,” for one, but she wanted to do it safely. She had already sketched out a cradle-shaped extension of her own bunk with a slight bump separating her mattress from Madi’s to help prevent any nightmarish accidents from occurring.</p><p>Madi had slept in the same bed as Clarke for three years, and still snuck into Clarke’s bed multiple nights a week all the years after that. Madi could have easily had her own room or building in the valley, but neither of them wanted that. Having her daughter that close was something that benefited both of them, and she wasn’t going to be giving that up.</p><p>She’d also sketched out a portable cradle, a baby sling, a changing station, a portable changing mat, <em>and </em>the additional crib that would sit against the wall and eventually become a bed as Madi grew older.</p><p>Yep, Raven <em>definitely </em>had dibs on being godmother. And with today officially marking the end of the first week, the official announcement would be the perfect way to finally bring all of them together. She pressed the button she knew would alert Jackson of her need for his presence – one of Jordan’s creations that sparked just a hint of Raven’s jealousy.</p><p>When Jackson came rushing into the room, Clarke looked at him without a trace of guilt at the worry she’d clearly caused the man, and said, “Make sure all the final choices are made. It’s happening tonight.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know this chapter was pretty brutal, and there will be future chapters that are just as (if not more) brutal. The good news is that I always mix good moments in with the bad. If there's ever a chapter that's nothing but heavy material, always trust that it will be followed with lighter stuff and fluff.</p><p>Writing for Madi and Clarke is what I love most, so this may be my favorite chapter out of any of the stories I've written. Hopefully it makes up for the sadder parts earlier on.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. One In, One Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Godparents are announced, but it's not a happy affair for everyone.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emori was alone in the gestation room yet again. The six parents had all agreed to take shifts two at a time despite the fact that there usually ended up being four of them present at any given moment. Each parent found it hard to part with their respective child in those first few days having them on Earth.</p><p>Murphy had been by her side for those first days – interrupting the stories she told their son with inappropriate quips he found funny. If she were being honest, they were pretty funny. She was also willing to humor him, <em>for now</em>, since Jackson assured her Bam Bam’s hearing wasn’t yet developed and Levitt informed them all that the glass encasing of the incubator was soundproof anyway.</p><p>The babies wouldn’t be able to hear a thing until the day they were born. Emori and Jackson had found this most upsetting, but Octavia was undeterred. She used it as time to practice and perfect her storytelling abilities. Said she had to change some things up now that she was going to be mommy instead of just Auntie O.</p><p>Emori thought that actually made a ton of sense, so she started doing the same thing. It was the end of their first week with the boys being on Earth, and Emori had found herself alone in front of her son’s incubator ever since Jackson delivered the news about Bam’s condition and the uncertainty that came along with it.</p><p>She had been terrified. Murphy had been infuriated. He’d stormed off, and all she could think to say to Jackson was to beg the man to do something for her son. To figure something out. <em>Anything. </em>She’d beg Clarke too if she had to.</p><p>She couldn’t bring herself to leave the baby’s side that night. Her eyes, dry and red from exhaustion, stayed trained on his dime-sized head the entire time. That first night, tears slipped down her cheeks as she listened to Octavia’s stories to Marcellus echo quietly through the room. The next night she finally resumed her own storytelling to Blake.</p><p>She told stories that revolved around everything she had to overcome as a child. Stories about being someone who was different in a world where that hadn’t been allowed. Stories where John’s input wasn’t necessary, which was perfect considering his constant growing absence from the room.</p><p>Emori had only encountered him once since they’d received the news, and that one encounter still left her feeling sick at the thought of what had been said.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Emori had finally been banished by Miller to go and get some sleep. She laid down on the cold bunk and stretched her arm out to lay a hand on the bunk next to her. It was cold to the touch, just as she’d feared. He hadn’t slept either. At least not here in their room.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It took her a while to drift off. She wasn’t sure how long, but she was fairly sure at least an hour passed before the exhaustion finally won out. She was roused from her deep sleep by the shrill sound of one of the bunks scooting across the floor. She sat up in the bed and was greeted by the sight of her inebriated boyfriend as he hissed out a “fuck” after having stumbled into the frame of one of the many bunks in the room.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A bunk that was nowhere near the two they had claimed and moved next to one another.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She had half a mind to go back to sleep, but she couldn’t just leave things unsaid with his finally being in the same vicinity as her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s obvious what you’ve been doing. Mind telling me where the hell you’ve been?” She’d been trying for a gentle approach, but clearly that was impossible for her right now.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Emori was met with a bitter laugh that sent a chill down her spine, causing her to visibly shiver from the unexpected, harsh sound.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I told you, Emori. I fucking <strong>told </strong>you!” Murphy shouted.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The brunette woman shrunk back at the man’s accusatory tone. Her own was meek when she responded.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Told me what, John?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Murphy scoffed. “I told you we couldn’t take on a baby just like that. That Jackson needed to look at him first. But, of course, you made that decision for us. Your mind was made up, so that meant mine was too. My thoughts and concerns didn’t mean shit to you. You just saw yourself in that incubator and made the cause your crusade. You chose for me in the process.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She stared at him with wide eyes, almost not believing what she was hearing until flashes of their breakup on The Ring crossed her mind. </em>
</p><p><strong> <em>Obviously</em> </strong> <em> he hadn’t been as sorry as he said he was when he had that collar around his neck in the valley. <strong>Obviously</strong> he hadn’t learned as much as she’d hoped. He’d made decisions for her, too. Decisions that hurt people instead of helped. This decision had been the right one, of that she was convinced.</em></p><p>
  <em>Emori quickly found her edge again. An edge that was reminiscent of Clarke’s when they encountered her in the valley after all those years.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maternal instinct, she mused. She was even more shocked at the realization that the thought only managed to empower her instead of leaving her scared about the future.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>With all the courage of a mother, she met his gaze and held her head high – her voice commanding and even with every word. “Being a parent isn’t a <strong>conditional </strong>job, John. I thought you of all people would’ve known that. But I guess you’re following in your mother’s footsteps and leading by her example after all,” she spat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She knew it was a low blow, but she would match blow for blow with him and anyone else who threatened or insulted her son.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Murphy’s eyes darkened dangerously. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he snarled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her face was made of stone and her voice composed of ice. “You agreed, John. Don’t stand there and act like I’ve <strong>ever </strong>been able to make you do <strong>anything </strong>you weren’t truly willing to do. You’re just doing what you always did best in the past – run when things get too tough for poor little John Murphy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The violent sniff he took in almost caused her to flinch.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His parting words would haunt her for a long time to come. “Have fun sitting back and watching the kid suffer. Don’t bother sending me an invite to the funeral.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And with that, he stormed out of yet another room. This time with a bottle still firmly in his hand and her not knowing if he’d actually return – or if she even wanted him to.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>She didn’t cry that night and she hadn’t cried in the nearly four days since. She spent every waking moment with Blake and let everything else fall away. Jackson had come to her earlier in the week, not commenting on Murphy’s noticeable absence (nobody commented on it except Levitt, but Octavia quickly took care of that), and told her he and Clarke thought it would be a good idea to assign godparents to each child.</p><p>Apparently, godparents were a concept used before the bombs and became especially popular on The Ark since there would never be any biological aunts or uncles to fulfill certain roles should something happen to a child’s parents.</p><p>He suggested that the parents all think about who they’d like to take responsibility for their child in the unfortunate event of something happening to any of them. With their miniscule population, he explained, it would be in the best interest of the children to try and assign different people to each kid so that one person wouldn’t end up being saddled with more than they could handle.</p><p>Emori immediately knew of at least one person she’d pick, and she’d made the decision on her own given that Murphy currently didn’t deserve any input. Not that he was here to provide it anyway…</p><p>Emori was in the midst of telling Bam Bam yet another G-rated story of her childhood adventures with her brother when she heard the door open behind her. She paused for a moment but didn’t turn around before continuing. It was probably just one of the other parents since they were all frequent visitors. She’d stopped hoping it would be John about two days ago.</p><p>“Hey,” Echo’s voice cut Emori’s story short and she startled just a bit when the former spy placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.</p><p>Emori quickly shook herself of the shock and replaced it with a genuine smile at the sight of her friend. They hadn’t seen much of one another recently. Their new roles didn’t have them crossing paths like they had on The Ring, and she suddenly realized just how much she’d missed the other woman.</p><p>She missed a lot of things.</p><p>Echo gave a small smile in return before addressing her friend. “Jackson asked me to come here and steal you away for a bit. I’ve heard there are some announcements that call for a family dinner,” Echo explained after noticing Emori’s confused expression.</p><p>Emori’s smile turned sad and she briefly lifted an eyebrow. “Family dinner, huh? We haven’t had one of those in a while. We used to have them all the time on The Ring…”</p><p>“I miss that,” Emori admitted in a whisper.</p><p>Echo’s features hardened, but her voice was soft regardless. “I don’t,” she said lowly. “I just miss the people who attended them,” she clarified quickly.</p><p>Emori nodded in understanding. “Well, some things haven’t changed. Like John being a selfish fool, for instance.”</p><p>Echo snickered at the remark before acknowledging the seriousness of the situation. “He’ll come around, Emori. Murphy’s just being, well, Murphy…”</p><p>Emori huffed in exasperation. “It was almost intolerable on The Ring. Now,” Emori moved her gaze to her son’s incubator with purpose, “it’s unacceptable. Bellamy would’ve kicked his ass repeatedly by now.”</p><p>Emori gasped when she realized her mistake and her hand flew to her mouth as if she hadn’t just inserted her foot into it.</p><p>“Echo I…”</p><p>Echo shook her head and her hands in protest. “It’s okay, Emori,” she soothed. “Bellamy had a way of dealing with Murphy that usually got better results than any of us ever could.”</p><p>Emori stared at the Azgedan woman for a beat before finally working up the courage to ask what had been in the back of her mind all week.</p><p>“How are you doing – since the, uh, the burial?” she asked awkwardly.</p><p>Echo took in a deep breath before crossing her arms and letting her eyes fall out of focus.</p><p>“I made the right decision. I know that in my heart. I’ll never regret not being there for it. I – I just couldn’t have my last image of him be like <em>that</em>,” she says almost defensively. “I’d rather remember him as a warm-blooded traitor with color in his cheeks and breath in his lungs than to have my last image of him lying somewhere devoid of all life,” she finishes with sad conviction.</p><p>Before Emori could form a response, Echo continued. “We all wish he were here, Emori. I feel that just about more than anyone on a daily basis. But just because he’s not here to deal with Murphy or help you, it doesn’t mean that you’re in this alone. I hope you know that. You’ll <em>never </em>be in this alone,” Echo emphasizes.</p><p>For the first time since Jackson delivered the news, Emori felt tears pooling in her previously dry eyes. She bit her lip as she swallowed back the emotion that was threatening to ruin what she wanted to say. What she <em>needed </em>to say.</p><p>Deciding that now was a better time than ever, Emori blurted out, “I want you to be Blake’s godmother.” She winced internally after hearing it aloud. She felt herself physically bracing for the rejection that she was sure would come. Echo had been Emori’s closest confidante about Bam’s condition, so the woman was fully aware of all the challenges that lie ahead.</p><p>To her surprise, she spared a hesitant glance in Echo’s direction and found the woman staring tenderly at the baby. Emori had long ago realized such tenderness was reserved exclusively for those closest to the Azgedan woman’s guarded heart.</p><p>Echo cleared her throat thickly before responding. “I would be honored to be his godmother. I will treat this as my most important mission yet, of that I can promise you,” she says with a sincerity so serious that strangers would find it intimidating. Emori always loved Echo’s fierceness. It allowed the former spy to love with a ferocity that was rare. It also made her loyalty run as deep as Emori had ever seen in any one person.</p><p>Echo moves her gaze back to Emori and nods resolutely. “We should get going before Jackson sends reinforcements in after us,” Echo quips, only half kidding.</p><p>Emori laughs as she links arms with her friend, and they head off towards the beach together.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Clarke was perched on the edge of her bunk putting her boots on when a light knock sounded at the door just moments before it opened to reveal Gaia. Clarke looked at the woman inquisitively, wondering why she wasn’t already at the beach.</p><p>Clarke knew she was running late herself, but not late enough to cause the kind of worry that warranted a search party. Not even by Raven’s standards.</p><p>Gaia seemingly read Clarke’s mind. “I’m here to escort you to the beach. Jackson and Raven have everyone moving some logs downwind and farther away from our firepit so that we can avoid overexposing you to the smoke while not isolating you from everyone else,” Gaia explained calmly.</p><p>Clarke sprung from her bed at the speed of light and whirled around to face Gaia head on. “You’ve <em>got </em>to be kidding me! An <em>escort </em>to the beach less than <em>a hundred yards </em>from the bunker’s entrance?!” Clarke bellowed. “It’s like you all see me as some liability who’s out to <em>intentionally </em>hurt <em>my own </em>child!”</p><p>The flaps of Clarke’s jacket flipped back as her hands abruptly met her hips and she started pacing the length of her bunk. Her detached heart rate monitor and blood pressure cuff couldn’t screech in protest this time.</p><p>Not exactly the reaction Gaia had been hoping for, but not entirely unexpected given that Clarke wasn’t used to restrictions of this magnitude or having people order her not to do things. She wasn’t known to be the greatest with authority. She <em>was </em>the authority.</p><p>The former <em>Fleimkepa </em>wore a kind smile as she made her way towards the other blonde, gently took her by the elbow, and guided Clarke back into a seated position on the bunk while she took a seat beside her.</p><p>Clarke didn’t look happy about the action, but she didn’t physically resist.</p><p>“Nobody thinks you’re out to harm Madi, Clarke. We would never think that because we know better,” Gaia assures. “But we also know how hard it is for you to sit back and do nothing – especially after bearing the brunt of things over the last six years while protecting Madi.”</p><p>Gaia uses her pointer finger to lightly lift Clarke’s chin so blue eyes can meet brown. “We also know that you’re used to sacrificing yourself in an effort to protect others – especially Madi. So, it doesn’t hurt to have some guidance and reminders that you have to protect <em>yourself </em>right now in order to protect Madi. Her very existence depends on your taking care of yourself.”</p><p>Clarke rips her face away from Gaia’s touch and stands abruptly, her tense shoulders and tight face had pure indignation rolling off of her in waves. “Don’t you think I <em>know </em>that?” Clarke yells.</p><p>The <em>Fleimkepa</em> rises as she watches the blonde resume her pacing. “Then why are you pacing when you know what the readings of those machines would be if they were in place right now?” Gaia asks pointedly.</p><p>Clarke halts the second the words leave the other woman’s lips. She hadn’t even realized what she’d been doing. She just knew she was frustrated, and the habit took over as a result.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>Clarke sighed in resignation as she slowly lowered herself back down onto her bunk, having been thoroughly chastised by that single observation. She ran a rough hand through her blonde waves while trying to calm herself down enough to slow her racing heart.</p><p>Gaia crouched down in front of Clarke; sympathy written all over her naturally soft facial features. “It’s okay, Clarke. We all know how hard this will be for you, and that’s why we’re here to help. We all know how long you’ve been carrying so many burdens for the rest of us. We’re more than willing to carry those burdens for a while. You just have to let us.”</p><p>Gaia takes both of Clarke’s hands in her own as Clarke finally meets Gaia’s eyes again.</p><p>“This – <em>unfortunately</em> – probably won’t be the last time I bite one of your heads off for just trying to help. I’m so sorry, Gaia,” Clarke laments. Her eyes flit back and forth between Gaia’s, silently begging the other woman to understand.</p><p>Gaia wears her signature calm smile again as she stands and pulls Clarke to her feet. “Consider yourself forgiven, Clarke, and know that we’ll be there to help no matter how much you protest,” the woman assures kindly.</p><p>Clarke smiles shyly as she looks down to the ground in front of her before nodding towards the door while moving her right hand to rest in her back pocket. “After you,” she gestures for Gaia to move forward with a flourish of her left hand.</p><p>Gaia gives an appreciative nod in return, her smile even brighter as she moves towards the exit with Clarke falling in step with her once they’re both through the doorway.</p><p>Little did the <em>Fleimkepa </em>know, she’d done a lot more than just remind Clarke to take care of herself.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Clarke was immediately met with all sorts of heavenly aromas as she reached the clearing of the beach. She stopped for a moment just to take a few appreciative whiffs. Jackson warned her that the pregnancy symptoms would likely be hitting <em>very </em>soon, and she wanted to enjoy the simple things while she still could.</p><p>The smell of freshly cooked meat made her stomach growl in anticipation. Her mouth watered as she got closer to where the group was seated and saw a table full of greens, meats, fish, and a wide assortment of berries.</p><p>God, she <em>loved</em> springtime on Earth.</p><p>Clarke nearly squealed when she spotted Madi’s favorite type of berry at the very end of the table. She was afraid it wouldn’t make its appearance in the Earth’s umpteenth recovery. She was practically gleaming when she felt her stomach growl again and rubbed it soothingly, silently telling Madi that she could have some soon.</p><p>And by soon, she meant she was headed straight for that table instead of the cushioned seat Raven was pointing to. If they wanted her to put herself and her baby first, she’d be starting right now by getting nourishment for the both of them. The usual formalities and her speech could wait.</p><p>Raven rolled her eyes but smiled as she watched the blonde spoon so many of the purple berries onto her plate that she wasn’t sure Clarke would be able to fit anything else on there. She was quickly proven wrong as her friend proceeded to prop a long strip of lean deer meat against the edge of the plate before strategically scooting the berries around to fit some greens into a corner. She even had room to drizzle some of Niylah’s dressing over the greens without it touching the rest of her food.</p><p>That shit was just impressive. It was either a superpower that pregnant women possessed, or Clarke was finally letting herself indulge in something good instead of holding back for the sake of others.</p><p>Maybe it was both.</p><p>Raven looked towards the rest of the group before shrugging at them and heading over towards the table Clarke was finally leaving. Everyone else seemed to take this as their cue to stand and make their way over to where the food was, each one briefly greeting Clarke before taking their place in the quickly forming line.</p><p>Clarke claimed the seat Raven had saved for her and moaned quietly in satisfaction as her bottom sunk into the cushioned chair that was clearly taken from the bunker specifically for her.</p><p>There was just enough of a chill in the air to make her jacket a necessity. She was grateful for that small fact because she wasn’t ready yet to part with it for the season. She was also glad the chill wasn’t overwhelming, because the roaring fire was at least 30 feet away from where the group sat.</p><p>Clarke wasn’t sure how big of a threat campfire smoke was to an embryo, but she wasn’t willing to risk it if Jackson wasn’t. If she had to stay within the confines of the bunker during the colder months, so be it. She’d be heavily pregnant by then, and she was sure being as comfortable and careful as possible would come a lot more naturally to her.</p><p>She’d encountered about three <em>obviously</em> pregnant women in her life, and they had all looked absolutely miserable. From what her mom had told her in the past and based on what she’d read in her book, she’d likely feel how they looked in just a matter of months. But that was more okay with her. She’d only be doing this once, and having a healthy baby was worth all of that misery and then some.</p><p>Clarke was interrupted from her thoughts when she heard Raven plop down with a grunt on a rock perched beside her own chair.</p><p>“Should’ve brought one out for myself,” the mechanic grumbled.</p><p>Normally, Clarke would’ve offered her seat to her injured friend, but she simply smiled appreciatively at the brunette and popped another berry into her mouth instead.</p><p>Maybe a little pampering for the next several months wouldn’t be such a bad thing.</p><p>“So,” Raven started once everyone was seated with their loaded plates, “what’s this news that’s got us all together over a ton of food? I swear to God if there’s another baby stashed somewhere or another fucking civilization popping out of Timbuk<em>fucking</em>tu that wants to go to war with us, I’m gonna lose my shit for <em>real </em>this time, guys,” Raven announced before viciously stabbing her panther meat with a fork.</p><p>Clarke finally looked up from her now half-empty plate to spare a glance at Jackson who was seated next to Miller across from her. He met her eyes as a silent understanding passed between the two. Clarke would continue to eat while Jackson got the ball rolling.</p><p>Clarke’s eyes followed his as he took in everyone around them. It wasn’t until now that she realized someone was missing. She felt a pang of sympathy in her chest as her gaze quickly shifted to Emori, who was pushing the food around on her plate in clear disinterest and a lame attempt to distract herself from the empty space on the log beside her.</p><p>Jackson cleared his throat, and Clarke almost laughed at how uncomfortable he looked. She wouldn’t typically find this funny, but it felt like poetic justice to her right now after the ease with which he’d ordered her around all week. Sure, it was for her own good and all, but it was still satisfying to see some of that smug confidence slip just a bit.</p><p>“While everyone has had to take on various responsibilities and make adjustments since our arrival back on Earth, Clarke, Nate, Emori, Octavia, Levitt, and myself are all in the midst of significant developments that have us thinking more and more about the future…a future that extends beyond that of just ourselves,” Jackson explains with some hesitation.</p><p>“Yeah, we know,” Hope states, unconcerned. “There’s, like, a ton of babies coming.” Her head bobbles a bit waiting for the doctor to tell them something they <em>don’t </em>already know.</p><p>Octavia sighs as she answers for Jackson, unimpressed with her niece’s rude interruption of the man. “What Jackson is saying, <em>Hope</em>,” she sees the girl grimace at the chastising tone, “is that we’ve been thinking a lot about what’s going to happen once the babies are here. We’ve been going over a lot of possible scenarios, and one of those scenarios is what happens to the kids should something happen to their parents.”</p><p>Raven’s fork clatters onto her plate with a resounding <em>ping</em> that has all eyes turning towards her while her own are like saucers as she stares at Clarke. She springs from her seat as quickly as she can manage, her plate toppling helplessly to the ground, and her right arm shoots into the air as high as it’ll go while her eyes remain fixed on the blonde next to her.</p><p>“I already called Madi!” the mechanic practically shouts. “I’m Clarke’s roommate and I’ll be the one building all the shit – I mean <em>stuff </em>– she needs for the kid. Plus, I’ll be doing all the babyproofing and Madi thought I was the coolest, which means I get dibs,” the brunette rambles insistently. Her gaze moves around the circle, daring anyone to challenge her claim to the child.</p><p>“Raven?” Clarke cuts into the moment.</p><p>“Yes, oh Pregnant One?”</p><p>“Sit down,” Clarke commands in a flat tone.</p><p>Raven, huffing as she drops back down onto her log, visibly pouts at the demand.</p><p>Before Raven can protest, Clarke lifts the hand that’s not holding her plate in an effort to silence her.</p><p>“Yes, Raven, I would like for you to be one of Madi’s godmothers. For all the reasons you stated and then some. Emphasis on <em>one of</em>.” Clarke quirks an eyebrow at the brunette next to her. “Had you let Jackson and Octavia finish, everyone would’ve found out that the parents of each child have chosen two godparents per kid,” Clarke finishes in all her assertive leader glory as her gaze pans half of the group.</p><p>Raven, apparently only having paid attention to the part that confirmed her as Madi’s godmother, yelled, “Bob may be your uncle, but Raven’s Madi’s aunt, bitches!” She thrusted both fists in the air as she squeezed her eyes shut and her head fell back towards the darkening sky in victory.</p><p>Clarke shook her head at the sight; a smile crept across her face at her friend’s obvious excitement. In all honesty, Clarke couldn’t be more grateful to have someone be so excited about the arrival of her child. Having someone in Madi’s corner who cared as much as Raven clearly did put Clarke’s heart at ease more than anything else ever had.</p><p>Some chuckles were heard as others congratulated Raven, only managing to stroke her ever-growing ego over what she considered her “big win.”</p><p>Indra, exhibiting more patience than usual at Raven’s antics, finally brings the moment to an end. “You said ‘one of,’ Clarke. Who’s the other?” Indra asks with an intensity that effectively silences the group.</p><p>“I’m glad you asked,” Clarke replies before shifting her gaze to the uncharacteristically anxious woman at Indra’s side. “Gaia, I know you and I didn’t get off to the best start where Madi was concerned, and I will never condone your having put The Flame in her head against my wishes.”</p><p>Gaia looks away from Clarke, her effort to conceal her gathering tears being highly unsuccessful. Indra was about to take the offensive on her daughter’s behalf, but Clarke spoke again before the older woman had the chance.</p><p>“I know you were hesitant to do it. That you felt the same pressure Madi felt. For that reason and for everything you’ve done to help Madi since, I forgive you,” Clarke says sincerely. “Not only do I forgive you, but what you did – choosing to save Madi over The Flame and your determination to protect her even after it was removed – those are things I’m not sure I can ever repay you for.”</p><p>Gaia’s teary gaze slowly looks up to meet Clarke’s soft one.</p><p>“I know I have no right to ask anything more of you…”</p><p>Gaia stands from her seat almost as quickly as Raven had. “You have every right, Clarke. And if you’re asking me to be Madi’s other godmother – to care for her again if there ever comes a time where you can’t – the answer is a resounding <em>yes</em>. A million times, <em>yes</em>,” Gaia says unequivocally.</p><p>Clarke sets her plate down on a rock beside her as she gestures for Raven to get to her feet. Raven doesn’t have to be told twice as she’s off of her log and engulfing Clarke in a crushing embrace.</p><p>“Raven,” Clarke wheezes, “there won’t be a goddaughter anymore if you don’t ease up a bit,” she grinds out.</p><p>Raven releases Clarke with a sheepish, yet somehow still sly, grin and settles for just throwing an arm around the blonde as Gaia steps into Clarke’s other side for a one-armed hug while cheers of congratulations echo yet again around them.</p><p>Once the excitement starts to die down and all three women are once again in their respective seats, Jackson seizes the opportunity to take the reins of the conversation.</p><p>“Well, we originally wanted to save all congratulations for the very end after all the godparents had been announced, but that kinda went out the window with that one,” he teased good-naturedly.</p><p>“You’ll get over it,” Raven shrugged with one shoulder before plucking a berry off the ground and tossing it into her open mouth.</p><p>Miller, irritated by the interruption, leveled a glare at the mechanic. “As Jack was <em>trying </em>to say,” he was undeterred by the roll of Raven's eyes, “we’re going to announce the godparents and give the reasons for our choices first, so please hold any questions, concerns, or congratulations until all of the choices are announced.”</p><p>Jackson smiles lovingly at his boyfriend before looking towards Octavia and Levitt. “Is it okay if we go next?” Jackson asks.</p><p>Octavia waves a hand in their direction. “Go for it.”</p><p>“The people we’ve chosen to be Samson’s godparents are two people we trust undoubtedly and who have helped see us through some of the hardest days of our lives so far. Niylah, Indra,” Jackson trains his eyes on Indra while Miller looks to Niylah, “we got to know the two of you under the harshest of circumstances during a time in our lives where strength and togetherness were needed the most.” Jackson looked to Miller who took the cue to say his own piece.</p><p>Miller looks back and forth between the two women as he speaks. “You two have proven that you can withstand anything, and you both possess skills and traits that we want for our son to have. We know he’ll be in good hands should anything happen to us,” Miller nods to let the women know he was finished.</p><p>If they didn’t know better, everyone in the group would swear there was a quiver to Indra’s lip and a glassy property to her eyes. Niylah, on the other hand, was much more open with her emotions as she sniffled loudly and wiped repeatedly at her eyes.</p><p>Echo gently elbowed the dirty blonde woman to get her attention before handing her a cloth to clean the collection snot and tears from her face. Indra simply leaned into her daughter as the girl wrapped a congratulatory arm around her mother.</p><p>Jackson and Miller look at each other with proud smiles on their faces before Jackson turns to Octavia who nodded in acknowledgement.</p><p>“I guess we’ll go next,” Octavia bumps Levitt’s upper arm with her shoulder as a smile slowly spreads across her face. Levitt knows how much their choice meant to his girlfriend, and his radiant expression was all the encouragement she needed.</p><p>“Hope,” Octavia watches in amusement as the girl’s head shoots up in surprise, “you were the one who taught me what it meant to love a child unconditionally. I know I was taken from you before I had a chance to teach you everything I wanted to, but, with the help of your father and your own sheer force of will, you turned out to be even better than I ever could’ve imagined,” Octavia’s voice wobbles for just a moment under the weight of her words.</p><p>She quickly regained control over herself just enough to continue. “You actually taught me more than I taught you, Little One.” Octavia had to continue in a louder tone to compete with the sob Hope let out at the nickname. “I know that may not make sense to you right now, but it will after Marcellus is born and you hold him for the first time. I promise you that any fears and doubts you have now will all melt away the second he’s in your arms – just like mine did the first time I held you. I want you to get to experience that bond the way that I did, and I trust you with the gift of taking care of my son the way I received the honor of taking care of you.”</p><p>Octavia had reached Hope by this point, her speech never ceasing despite having to make her way towards the sobbing girl and wrapping her arms around her. She was rocking Hope by the end and finished what she had to say with a kiss to the side of Hope’s head. She knew the girl was overwhelmed right now, and everyone else clearly picked up on that fact too as they gave the two a few moments of semi-privacy.</p><p>Clarke even took the opportunity to go and get seconds. Raven followed suit; her dirt-covered piece of panther being tossed into the fire on her journey to the table.</p><p>By the time the two women returned from their short expedition, Hope’s sobs had reduced to sniffles and Jordan’s arms replaced Octavia’s as the older woman had returned to her spot beside an emotional Levitt.</p><p>Sensitive guys could be pretty fucking hot, Raven had to admit.</p><p>Jordan was the one to finally break the silence. “If Hope’s the first, who’s the second?” he asks innocently.</p><p>Hope shoves her way out of his embrace as her head whipped around to lock eyes with her aunt. “No!” The outburst manages to startle everyone. “He has two parents and an aunt, just like I did. I can handle it, Auntie O, I swear. You don’t need to name a second godparent, okay?” she insists hoarsely.</p><p>Octavia nods placatingly at the girl. The second Hope’s head makes its way back to Jordan’s chest, Octavia looks to Indra and then Niylah, the former of the two lifting her chin in understanding and the latter smiling in silent agreement.</p><p>Hope wouldn’t be taking on Marcellus alone should something happen to her and Levitt.</p><p>Jordan, once again being one of the worst at picking up on social cues, finally asks what some of the others had been wondering. “Where’s Murphy? Bam Bam’s the only kid whose godparents have yet to be announced. Shouldn’t he be here for that?"</p><p>Echo, hearing the sharp intake of breath from the woman standing up from the seat beside her, turns her head in time to watch Emori step away from the group. Raven sighs and moves to hand her plate to Clarke so she can follow but Echo just shakes her head to signal that the woman needs some space right now.</p><p>“Was it something I said?” Jordan asks nervously. He’s still totally oblivious to what’s been going on.</p><p>It’s Echo’s turn to sigh now. “No, Jordan. It’s just…complicated,” Echo tries for a smile that she hopes looks reassuring. Based on the way his frown deepens, it’s not.</p><p>Everyone turns to look only to find that Emori is now totally out of sight. Under past circumstances, this would put them all on edge, but the physical threats to safety are now few and far between. She would either head back to the bunker or remain within shouting distance. Those were the rules if someone took off without one of Raven’s radios.</p><p>Echo cleared her throat to draw the group’s attention away from Emori’s whereabouts. When all eyes are on her again, she decides to just take the plunge.</p><p>“Before we got here, Emori asked me to be Blake’s godmother, and I accepted,” Echo says with the slightest hint of pride in her otherwise plain tone.</p><p>With that admission, everyone takes it as their signal to finally congratulate one another and chatter excitedly about their new positions and how honored they all feel. Clarke also makes sure to establish that this doesn’t mean there are any favorites when it comes to all non-parents and the kids. She states that they’ll all play major roles in each child’s life and all the kids will be loved.</p><p>Mostly everyone agrees. Raven just mocks Clarke with a, “yeah, yeah, no favorites…blah, blah, blah…”</p><p>Clarke and Gaia roll their eyes as everyone else laughs at Raven’s blasé attitude.</p><p>There’s an air of relief that accompanies all of the excitement in the atmosphere. Relief that all of the kids will be cared for and loved no matter what.</p><p>A comfortable silence eventually falls over the group as they all take a moment to finally finish their food. Jordan, not quite satisfied despite the happiness surrounding him, let’s his curiosity get the best of him yet again</p><p>“Wait,” he urged, “who’s Bam Bam’s other godparent?”</p><p>“You are,” an unexpected voice rings out.</p><p>Jordan just stared, baffled, at the source of the voice while Miller jumps to his feet to advance on their <em>unwelcome </em>guest. Octavia and Echo respond in just enough time to situate themselves between the two men.</p><p>Octavia faces Miller as she holds a stabilizing arm out towards the man. Echo faces Murphy and takes a defensive stance that keeps the man from getting any closer to the group.</p><p>“This oughta be good,” Raven mumbles only to have her forearm met with Clarke’s elbow as the blonde shot her signature warning look at the mechanic. It was the same look she gave Madi when the girl tried to follow Diyoza as the was being exiled from Sanctum’s compound. Clarke then went to try and stand up herself, but quickly had one arm held down by Raven and the other by Jackson. He’d shot to his feet right after Miller.</p><p>Clarke had to take a deep breath to stifle a groan, but the sight of a few purple berries remaining on her plate reminded her of just how important it was for her to stay calm. There were enough sensible people around to handle this without her having to get directly involved.</p><p>
  <em>She hopes.</em>
</p><p>“Judging by the warm welcome,” Murphy raised his bottle in a toasting gesture towards Miller, “I guess it’s safe to say my seat and a plate of food weren’t kept warm.”</p><p>“Cut the shit, Murphy. What do you want?” Echo grinds out menacingly.</p><p>Murphy raises both hands in surrender, making sure to hold tight to his bottle in the process.</p><p>“Easy now, Echo. I heard the familiar sounds of a family dinner and figured my invite must’ve gotten lost,” Murphy mused smugly.</p><p>“Who the hell said you were family?” Miller barks.</p><p>“Enough!” Clarke hissed in Miller’s direction. “No matter what Murphy’s done, he’s not going to be banished <em>again</em>. Especially not now that there aren’t any humans left to spare and there’s more at stake here for him now than ever.” Clarke crossed her arms pointedly as she tilted her chin upwards in a look Murphy knew all too well.</p><p>Clarke Griffin was establishing her dominance over the group, and he found himself quite okay with it this time around.</p><p>“Much obliged, <em>Princess</em>,” he raised his bottle in her direction while bowing his head in mock reverence.</p><p>“Watch it, Murphy,” Raven warned.</p><p>“Chill, Reyes, it’s actually a good thing I’m here,” he cranes his head to take stock of everyone behind Echo. “Looks like I was the only one who could answer the kid’s question.”</p><p>Jordan finally managed to shake himself from his stupor when Murphy’s gaze settled on him. Although his utter confusion and horror at the situation still kept him from being able to verbalize a response.</p><p>Murphy’s crooked grin slips from his face as he stares at the son of his former friends. “You heard right, Jordan,” Murphy says softly. “I want you to be my son’s godfather.”</p><p>“What makes you think you can just come here and…”</p><p>Miller’s words are cut off as Jordan finally finds his voice. “Why me?” he asks weakly.</p><p>Murphy’s eyes shift their focus on a faraway tree somewhere beyond Jordan’s head. “Your dad was one of my best friends, but I didn’t always treat him that way,” Murphy admits sadly. “He was there for me anyway, even when I didn’t deserve it.”</p><p>Murphy takes a ragged breath as his eyes fill with tears and he focuses them back on Jordan. “One of the very last memories I have of your dad was him refusing to leave me to die, even if it meant he would die too. Your mom stood firm beside him, prepared to die with the both of us. Harper was – Harper was kind to me long before I’d ever earned any form of kindness. She was in the cell next to mine on The Ark. We had a boy-girl-boy-girl cell setup. When we got to the ground that first time, she was one of <em>very </em>few people who didn’t call for me to be executed,” Murphy’s voice waivered as tears slipped down his cheeks, one after another.</p><p>The rest of the group was in a stunned silence. Only three of them understood those early events Murphy referred to, and the emotion that came from digging up those repressed memories sobered the trio almost instantly. Every ounce of anger dropped from Miller’s body – having been replaced with something far uglier. Far more depressing.</p><p>Loss. Regret.</p><p>“But what does that have to do with me?” Jordan squeaks out.</p><p>Murphy smiles, but there’s no happiness behind it. “I see the best parts of both of them in you. You may be a little on the naïve side,” Murphy teases, “but you’re clearly every bit as kind as your mother was, if not more so. And your quest for peace and a better way? That’s got your dad written all over it. Kindness and the ability to find a better way are both things a kid of mine will certainly lack, so I need for you to step in and show him what I can’t. Help him be better than I ever could be.”</p><p>Murphy’s admission breaks Jordan. The boy drops his head into his hands right before his body racks with violent sobs, the encouraging words and mention of his parents managing to overwhelm his entire being.</p><p>Hope drops to her knees next to him and simply holds Jordan the way he’s held her multiple times before. She eventually adds the little swaying motion her mom and Auntie O always used when comforting her.</p><p>They could both be awesome godparents to these kids, of that she was now certain.</p><p>“I know that I haven’t been the best father these last few days. I can admit that. And I <em>will </em>answer to my son for that, first and foremost. Because no matter what, I made a promise to that little boy and I will be damned if I don’t keep it. I lost sight of that for a moment, but these last few days have made me realize that I can and will <em>never </em>lose sight of that again,” Murphy says earnestly.</p><p>He runs a hand through his greasy hair as he turns the bottle upside down, watching some of the liquid splash on his shoes as it ricochets off the ground.</p><p>Once the bottle is empty, Murphy bends down and rolls it in Raven’s direction. “I’m sure you can find a better use for that now.”</p><p>Raven just eyes him curiously. They’re all staring at him and it’s becoming <em>too fucking much</em>.</p><p>“I know I have to answer to my son, and eventually I’ll have to answer to his mother, too. But what I won’t do is stand by and allow you all to play Judge &amp; Executioner with my life <em>again</em>,” he growls. “I made a mistake, and I own that. I’ll answer and atone for it in the best way that I can. But <em>none </em>of you get a say in how, when, or why I do that. All you need to know is that I’m back, and I’m not leaving my kid again. You can believe that or not; it doesn’t matter to me either way. All that matters is that I can prove it to Bam Bam and Emori.”</p><p>“Murphy - ”</p><p>“I don’t want to hear it right now, Clarke,” he grits out.</p><p>Clarke quirks an eyebrow and crosses her arms again. She looks a lot more like herself now that she’s finally able to stand to her full height.</p><p>“I was just going to tell you to grab a plate. Food’s over there,” she bobs her head in the direction of the table, her eyebrow remaining quirked as she continues. “You’ll have to warm it up yourself and find an open seat. Think you can manage that?” she challenges teasingly.</p><p>She was in no mood for anymore of his attitude or to put up with more fighting. She just wanted things to settle so they could all find their peace again.</p><p>Murphy smirked in amusement that wasn’t intended as mockery this time around. He looked back to Jordan who had been beaming at Clarke before directing his 1,000-watt smile at Murphy.</p><p>Murphy winked at Jordan as he replies to the fearless leader. “Even <em>I </em>can manage that, Clarke,” he teases right back.</p><p>Everyone returns to their seats and their food; the tension gradually melts away as conversation and laughter once again fill the air.</p><p>There was still someone missing, but that was for Murphy alone to deal with. He’d get some water and food into his system and be in a much better mood by the time he faced the storm he knew was yet to come when he finally found his way back to the gestation room.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was a big chapter, but I'm actually excited to have it finally out of the way. Now I can really get the ball rolling (but remember my intention to have slower pacing as this will be a lengthy story) with some other major plots I have in mind. Stay tuned!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Not on Any Map</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>New bonds have formed while an old one hangs in the balance. Clarke's pregnancy symptoms start off with a bang.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clarke’s plan worked like a charm, naturally, and the blonde hadn’t mentally felt so light since she was a young teenager. She’d come close to the feeling in the valley with Madi, but the weight of the fate of her friends had plagued her all 2,199 days.</p><p>Coming up with plans to bring people together that didn’t involve force, or the threat of war, was something she could quickly get used to. It hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing with Murphy and Emori, but those problems were nothing compared to the hands she’d been dealt over the years.</p><p>What was important was that the bridge between the expectant parents and the rest of the group had been gapped. Every single member – even Indra – was now a regular in the boys’ room. Everyone knew how to maintain and troubleshoot the recyclers powering the incubators, and they’d also had a little family gathering where Clarke and Jackson explained Bam Bam’s condition to everyone.</p><p>Clarke’s father’s idea stood the test of time: bringing everyone in on a problem yielded the best results. While nobody was familiar with DiGeorge syndrome specifically, Niylah and Gaia had both encountered children with cleft palates at some point.</p><p>And Jordan, to no one’s surprise, added that algae may be a better source of nutrition for the infant after he’s born since it can better help maintain his oxygen levels. Jordan himself had fed on it in infancy as his mother had been unable to breastfeed, so they had literal living proof of its effectiveness.</p><p>It would also serve as a more natural anesthetic to use during the procedures, and Jordan knew the precise doses needed as his father had documented it from when he’d been sick as an infant. That solved the problem of trying to figure out the correct dosing of Sanctum’s anesthetics. They simply used the isolated paralytic properties from the beetles, and Jackson, no matter how much he read about its success in Sanctum’s medical texts, was more than hesitant to have his first use of the drug be on a newborn.</p><p>He’d used Monty’s algae before as an anesthetic, and he had been surprisingly comfortable with it. He actually preferred it over the traditional Propofol that they’d used on The Ark and in the bunker. Not only was the algae a more sustainable source, it was also much gentler on the body, so side effects were virtually non-existent. It would be perfect for Clarke should she need it during delivery.</p><p>Although feeling more in the loop had helped, what really lead to the rest of the group forming their own bonds with the babies was telling stories. The idea of telling old folklore had derived from Octavia’s upbringing with Bellamy. Re-telling kid-friendly versions of actual events and memories was a well-worn page taken yet again from Clarke’s parenting book.</p><p>They’d worked out a one-time schedule that allowed each non-parental figure to have alone time in the boys’ room for several hours. During those hours, they could say whatever they pleased without the fear of appearing weak or feeling judged. The privacy was definitely necessary for Echo and Indra, and they’d both left the room looking visibly more relaxed following their respective time with the boys.</p><p>Their attachment hadn’t reached the level it had with Madi. That would be something only time and watching the children develop their own personalities could build.</p><p>Clarke had also found herself much less lonely during her <em>captivity</em>, as Raven had called it. The mechanic had taken to reading chapters of "<em>What to Expect When You’re Expecting" </em>aloud to the group every night to catch them all up through to week six. Mostly everyone had been horrified, a few were fascinated, one or two seemed unsurprised, but everyone undoubtedly became more attentive to their pregnant friend.</p><p>Apparently, knowledge really was power, because everyone seemed more comfortable with the newest developments and impending additions after being informed of what was going on. It was incredible what a little effective communication could do.</p><p>Unfortunately, Raven couldn’t seem to get that through to Emori where Murphy was concerned. The two were in the bunker’s designated machine shop working on finding a way for the helmets to allow them to verbally communicate with one another while on other planets. They were operating under their own time crunch with the upcoming trips to Sanctum and Bardo looming.</p><p>The other parents all decided to prepare their own nurseries once they found out Clarke was planning out Madi’s. Jordan <em>insisted </em>his godson would be sleeping in the cradle his father had made for him as an infant. Jackson pointed out that there were a few cradles in Sanctum’s nursery and declared his son would be using one of those. Levitt provided that there were rows upon rows of “sleepers” on Bardo that also monitored the baby’s vitals, so Marcellus’ sleeping situation was decided pretty quickly.</p><p>Raven, who normally would’ve taken offense at nobody seeking her handiwork, admittedly had her hands full with everything Clarke needed for Madi. As their resident tech expert, she signed off on the trips to Bardo and Sanctum under one condition: they bring back extras for her to use as source material for her own creations. Once that was established, the next priority became communication.</p><p>Sure, they could send signals, but that was it. Emori had mentioned it would be cool if they could actually communicate verbally with one another in real-time, regardless of what planet they were on. Raven’s eyes had widened in glee and she hobbled off to her workshop as quickly as she could manage.</p><p>-</p><p>The two had been sitting side-by-side for hours, Emori’s incessant muttering to herself finally becoming more than Raven could take.</p><p>“Ya know, I think I could manage on my own for a bit. I’m sure Bam Bam’s wondering where the hell you are at this point,” Raven tried with only a hint of annoyance.</p><p>Emori finally tore her eyes away from the part she’d been staring aimlessly at for the last hour only to glance at the clock nearby. “It’s only been three and a half hours; it’s not time yet,” Emori mumbled.</p><p>Raven huffed as she tossed her screwdriver down in frustration. “You’re going to have to talk to him sometime, Emori. It’s been over a week now and you have yet to even be in the same room as him. You can’t avoid him forever,” Raven blurted out as she crossed her arms over her chest.</p><p>Emori just looked back to the same part she’d been examining for so long. “You don’t understand, Raven. I can’t keep doing this,” Emori whispered.</p><p>Raven scooted back in her chair, the screech of the metal startling Emori. “Oh, <em>I </em>don’t understand dealing with Murphy, huh? <em>I </em>don’t know what it’s like to have to forgive him for something awful, is that right?” Raven’s pitch had increased with each word while she looked pointedly to the brace on her outstretched leg.</p><p>Emori sighed before allowing her head to lull back in her own chair. “That’s not what I meant Raven, and you know it,” she groaned. “It wasn’t just me that he left this time. Clearly, he hasn’t changed, and I can’t afford to keep making the same mistake now that the stakes are so much higher,” Emori explained exasperatedly.</p><p>Raven lifted an unimpressed eyebrow as she eyed the woman next to her, not bothering to hide the judgement she was feeling. “Hasn’t changed?” Raven hissed. “Emori, less than two months ago, by our timeline, Murphy took a <em>whole half </em>of The Ring for himself to get away from all of us for over a <em>year</em>,” the mechanic exclaimed.</p><p>“And that was over something nowhere <em>near </em>as major as what you’re facing now. He disappeared for a couple of days to blow off some steam and has been by his kid’s side ever since. Yes, it’s <em>his </em>kid too, Emori,” Raven reminded her. “You two are going to have to find a way to deal with these challenges together, because your baby is going to need around-the-clock care and you can’t provide that if you refuse to be in the same room as his father…”</p><p>“Don’t you think I know that?!” Emori screeched, causing Raven to flinch.</p><p>“I don’t need yet <em>another </em>reminder of what my son will have to go through, Raven. I’m well aware of the road that lies ahead.” Emori stands from her seat and turns to face the wall opposite her as she tries to collect herself.</p><p>“I’m not trying to make things worse for you, Emori,” Raven says softly.</p><p>“All I’m saying is that, as someone who’s seen Murphy at his very worst, he’s nowhere near the Murphy he was even two months ago. I know he hurt you, but he really has changed for the better. At some point you’ll have to acknowledge the fact that he’s still human, so you can’t hold him to this impossibly high standard that only sets him up to fail,” Raven says in earnest.</p><p>The mechanic tore Murphy apart the day after their family dinner, but she’d said what she’d needed to say and left it at that. The man was entitled to his feelings, and he’d gotten a lot better with expressing himself in a less assholish way over the years. Sometimes you have to sweep aside the small stuff so you don’t lose sight of the real mess.</p><p>Raven exits the shop when she hears Emori sniffle. Her friend needs some alone time, and she knows she won’t get anywhere with the woman once she shuts down like this.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>It turns out Jackson was correct in his prediction that Clarke’s pregnancy symptoms would kick in sooner than later. She was two days into her sixth week when she woke up one morning feeling like she’d been hit by the rover.</p><p>And yes, she actually <em>had </em>been hit by the rover, so she could accurately make that comparison. The first time Madi operated the vehicle had <em>not </em>been during her first driving lesson, unfortunately for Clarke.</p><p>Her breasts had felt fuller the last couple of weeks, but the tenderness and pain were <em>definitely </em>new. They also felt almost unbearably heavy and were swollen to the point where she could no longer manage to stretch the material of her black sports bra enough to cover them. She’d relied on that bra for support since she was 16 years old.</p><p>Octavia ended up having to cut it off of her because she couldn’t bear the tight pull of the fabric anymore. Clarke had cried when it happened – partly out of pain, partly because she was losing yet another longstanding source of comfort, and mostly because her hormones were <em>completely </em>out of control.</p><p>Her poor friend had been caught off guard by the blonde’s tears. Nobody was really used to seeing Clarke cry – especially not over something as trivial as an article of clothing. Octavia quickly jumped into action and did her best to placate the woman by telling her she’d come up with an alternative. She was the daughter of The Ark’s most skilled seamstress, after all.</p><p>That did little to console a nearly hysterical Clarke.</p><p>On top of that, the same aromas that had her stomach growling only a week before now had it turning at just the <em>thought </em>of food. <em>Any </em>food.</p><p>Speaking of her sense of smell – that was yet <em>another </em>new development. After all of the early months they’d spent on the ground without toothpaste, toothbrushes, mint leaves, indoor plumbing, toilet paper, or even proper soap, Clarke no longer really registered odors. Or at least they hadn’t bothered her.</p><p>But right now, she could smell <em>everything</em>, and it <em>all</em> bothered her<em>. </em>Raven called it her “superpower,” but Clarke thought of it more as a curse. She swore she could smell the campfire smoke from over a hundred yards away – even with her bedroom door shut and the exit to the bunker sealed. Hope had mused that was impossible with the bunker’s airtight seal but couldn’t backtrack fast enough as she was met with two icy blue eyes shooting daggers sharp enough to cut right through the frightened girl.</p><p>And, of course, the smell of smoke also made the blonde's stomach flip. Just like everything else seemed to these days. Niylah was trying just about everything she could to help take some of the edge off of Clarke’s symptoms. So far, they had access to chamomile, peppermint, roses, rosemary, White Willow trees, lavender, Maritime Pine trees, and cloves in the fields within a 500-yard perimeter of the bunker. Not a single “tea” worked for Clarke’s nausea or swelling.</p><p>Niylah had even tried to make pastes out of some of the plants and suggested Jackson try and isolate certain properties of the herbs to create an injectable form that the pregnant woman couldn’t regurgitate.</p><p>No such luck.</p><p>-</p><p>Raven was greeted with the familiar sound of Clarke’s retching as she stopped in front of their door to spray her bare feet with the rose water concoction Niylah had made. The brunette had to take her boots off in an adjoining hallway and leave them there, no matter how freezing cold the floor was. They’d recently discovered that even the faintest trace of the odor made the blonde violently ill.</p><p>Raven slowly opened the door and entered the dimly lit room, immediately assaulted by the smell of fresh vomit wafting through stale air. Her eyes darted to the shocking sight of a ghostly pale Clarke whose short blonde locks were matted to her sweaty neck, forehead, and cheeks.</p><p>In fact, her entire body seemed to be drenched in sweat. <em>And </em>she was shivering just enough for it to be noticeable.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>Raven tore her jacket off and threw it onto an empty bunk before rushing to collect the bucket in front of Clarke only to replace it with another. She’d learned that trick the other night when she’d went to empty the bucket after Clarke had vomited only to return and find her friend spewing bile all over the floor.</p><p><em>That </em>was a fun night. Clarke had apologized endlessly when the morning sickness first started. Raven just shrugged it off and reminded the blonde that she’d declared herself Clarke’s roommate and Madi’s godmother, so this was all just a part of the territory.</p><p>A part of the territory she hadn’t seen on the map, and it kind of fucking sucked.</p><p>But as much as it sucked for Raven, it was <em>way </em>worse for Clarke. That much was clear as Raven returned with the freshly rinsed bucket and watched as Clarke swayed a little on her bunk.</p><p>The mechanic’s forehead scrunched in alarm as she sat beside the blonde to steady her and placed a cool rag to her forehead. “How many times has it been?” Raven asked, her voice laced with obvious concern.</p><p>“Four,” Clarke croaked out.</p><p>Okay, that wasn’t <em>too </em>bad.</p><p>“In the last hour,” Clarke continued in a rasp before doubling over in pain.</p><p>Raven was already grabbing for the call button that’d dropped to the floor by Clarke’s bed, her eyes never leaving Clarke’s unsteady form. She held in the button longer than usual to signal it was an <em>emergency </em>emergency this time.</p><p>Raven shot to her feet in panic as Clarke gasped for air and clutched tightly at her midsection. The brunette’s first useless instinct had been to call for Clarke. Her second was to ask Clarke if she was in pain and where it hurt, but that seemed pointless based on what she was witnessing.</p><p>She took a breath and tried to sound as calm as possible. “Okay, Clarke, Jackson should be here any moment now, okay? We’re going to get you to medical and he’s going to fix this…”</p><p>Before Raven could say more, the man in question barged through the doorway with Octavia on his heels. She must’ve been near him when he got the call. Jackson reached Clarke in two long strides and instantly heaved her up into his arms, the action causing Clarke to cough as she choked down another bout of nausea.</p><p>Jackson pushed passed a horrified Octavia and took off towards medical, Clarke being deadweight in his arms as she had no energy to protest. The only thing her mind was able to register was pain and sheer panic.</p><p>The desperate kind of panic she’d felt when she couldn’t get to Madi as the horn sounded signaling Madi’s impending ascension. The same helpless panic she felt when Madi’s eyes wouldn’t focus and the child wouldn’t respond to her.</p><p>It was the way Clarke felt when she knew she was losing her child and there was nothing she could do about it.</p><p>Raven and Octavia trailed closely behind the two on the mad dash to medical. Their faces failing to conceal what they both felt: absolute dread.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Emori flew out of her chair when the thick, metal door to the workshop slammed into the concrete wall behind her.</p><p>Echo was panting with a crazed look in her eyes that had Emori’s heartrate triple at the sight.</p><p>“We’ve been looking <em>all over </em>for you!” Echo half-shouts in between pants. “Why the <em>hell </em>haven’t you answered your radio?!” she yells accusatorily.</p><p>Emori spares a quick glance to the item in question lying on the desk where she’d left it after turning it off to give herself some time to think.</p><p>Turning back to Echo not a second later, Emori ignores the question in favor of getting more information. “What’s wrong?” she asks in a rush.</p><p>The former spy launches forward and grabs Emori by the wrist to pull her towards the door. “It’s Clarke,” Echo says in a clipped tone. “Jackson needs you, Jordan, and Miller to get to Sanctum <em>now</em>,” she states firmly as she drags the woman towards the pit where they’d since moved the stone.</p><p>Emori sees Jordan and Miller hurriedly tossing bags over their shoulders. They grab their helmets once they see the two women running down the winding ramp.</p><p>“Wait,” Emori tries to jerk away from Echo’s firm grasp, “is Clarke okay?”</p><p>Miller tosses her a helmet as Echo pushes her towards the awaiting man while Jordan enters the code for Sanctum. The room erupts in a brilliant green glow and Miller pulls her into the swirling light before she even has a chance to put her helmet on.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know this was kind of a dick move, but I'm sure anyone familiar with my work already knows how things will ultimately play out for a certain someone(s). </p><p>I promise to TRY to get the next chapter up before Christmas. I already have part of it written because I ended up separating it from this one. I've been taking a couple of days to fully flesh out the chapters to ensure their quality instead of just trying to crank out fast updates like I used to. </p><p>Don't leave me now - it's just starting to get good! You guys are too amazing to screw over, so fear not!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Butterfly Effect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Emori, Jordan, and Miller arrive on Sanctum to divide and conquer. Clarke wakes up in medical to a sympathetic Jackson looming nearby.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emori stumbled into Miller as he came to an abrupt halt and the green glow finally dissipated around them. Her first instinct was to avert her eyes, but she felt a gentle hand grab her elbow before she had the chance.</p><p>“It’s okay,” Jordan bowed his head in understanding. “They took care of everything.” Emori knew what “everything” meant. She nodded, letting him know it was okay to release her arm. There was no reason not to trust Jordan or her friends who’d “cleaned up” last week.</p><p>With that problem solved, she turned on her heel towards Miller. “What the <em>hell</em> is going on?” Emori demanded, her usual fire finally overtaking her confusion. She hadn’t had time to process what was happening since the moment Echo burst into the shop.</p><p>Jordan immediately held a tentative hand in front of a huffing Miller. He didn’t know the man well, but he knew he was notorious for his temper. It’s what made him the perfect soldier for <em>Blodreina</em>. The last thing they needed right now was an argument.</p><p>Jordan answered before Miller had the chance. “Clarke was cramping, so Jackson needed us to come here and get some of my dad’s algae and check Gabriel’s camp for any notes or elixirs he may have had. We’ll also probably grab a wheelchair and the two cradles while we’re here,” Jordan rambled more to himself, going through the steps of his to-do list out loud.</p><p>Emori’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why are we bothering with cradles right now when Clarke needs us?” In fact, why were they still standing around talking if this was an emergency?</p><p>Even in dire circumstances, Monty and Harper’s son still managed the brightest of smiles. Emori couldn’t help but envy that about him. There didn’t seem to be much that could keep the boy down. He was the perfect counterpart for Echo, and he’d make one hell of a godfather to Blake. She felt a small tug on her own lips at the thought.</p><p>He wagged his pointer finger just like his father used to whenever he had an idea. “That’s the thing – we had to rush to get here, but now that we’re here we can take our time. Hours spent here will be minutes there. Half an hour, tops,” he smiled triumphantly. The kid was practically bouncing on his heels at the prospect of another adventure with two of his childhood heroes.</p><p>“Just because we <em>can </em>take our time doesn’t mean we should,” Miller grumbled. “I highly doubt Clarke or anyone else would appreciate us dicking around here just <em>because we can</em>,” Miller mocked as he straightened his posture and pulled at the straps of his bag in agitation.</p><p>He turned and made off in the direction of Sanctum’s medical center – leaving a deflated Jordan and a slightly bitter – but determined – Emori. She didn’t appreciate Miller’s approach, especially in front of Jordan, but she had to admit that he was right. This wasn’t some adventure from a childhood story; this was a mission, and they needed a game plan.</p><p>“Alright,” Emori said, trying to keep her voice light but on task at the same time. “I can get us through the shield. You wanna take the ship since you probably know it better than I do?” She quirked a questioning eyebrow at the boy, sorry – <em>man</em>, before her.</p><p>She watched as he shifted from one foot to another, his gaze casting down to the ground around him. A telltale sign of discomfort mixed with something she didn’t recognize.</p><p>He looked back up at her with his brows knit together in question before his eyes widened in realization. “Have you ever been to Gabriel’s camp?” he asked. “Do you even know what direction it’s in?”</p><p>Emori’s head fell back as she fought the urge to groan. One of them needed to check Gabriel’s camp, and she had only been outside of the shield when they’d first landed on this planet. She only knew where their ship had landed, and she’d honestly be lucky to remember how to get back there on her own.</p><p>“Okay,” she sighed as she took a moment to regroup. “<em>You </em>search Gabriel’s camp, and I’ll head to the ship. I know where the algae farm is. Are there any codes that I need to know about or any particular places where I should look?”</p><p>She started moving towards the fields and he took that as his cue to follow.</p><p>“Uh, there’s a large cabinet against the back wall where the algae farm is. My dad kept all of his original strain cultures in there. There should also be some drives attached to each cannister, so make sure those don’t come loose.”</p><p>Jordan tapped a finger to his chin as he searched his brain for any more information she might need. He skipped forward a little when his next thought hit. “You can put the cannisters in my old cradle!” he exclaimed. “You know, so we can decrease the chances of having to return here.” He attempts to cover his previous childish excitement with more <em>adult </em>reasoning in his <em>adult </em>tone.</p><p>Emori laughs at the way he tries to deepen his voice for that last part. She had to hand it to John, he was right about Jordan’s awkwardness being amusing – endearing, even, if anyone asked her.</p><p>Emori’s smile lingers as she glances back towards her travel companion. “I’ll be sure to grab it, Jordan,” she says softly. Her tone morphs into something more serious as she says, “You be careful in the woods, okay? We don’t have any way to communicate with one another, and the people of Sanctum avoided leaving the safety of the shield for a reason.”</p><p>The Children of Gabriel may be gone, but their infamous traps and the sketchy terrain surely remained.</p><p>The atmosphere around them grows somber as they near the aforementioned shield. Emori swings an arm out behind her, signaling for Jordan to stay back. She approaches and enters the code Russell had shared with her once she became “Kaylee.”</p><p>At least her going along with John’s betrayal hadn’t been <em>all </em>bad at that time.</p><p>She shook her head in an effort to shake the thoughts of him away before motioning to Jordan that it was safe to pass.</p><p>He found himself on the receiving end of a glare so intense it made him squirm on the spot. “Promise me you’ll be safe.” The deep, fierce husk in her voice sounded foreign to her ears. She’d heard it before, but never from her own lips.</p><p>It sounded almost…<em>motherly</em>.</p><p>Jordan smirked at her, almost certainly catching the flicker of surprise that must have crossed her face. “You too, Emori,” he said kindly. So kindly, in fact, that she almost insisted they go to the camp together. She just couldn’t imagine him holding his own out in the woods by himself.</p><p>Before Emori could find a way to justify suggesting they not separate, Jordan was disappearing into the trees.</p><p><em>He’ll be fine</em>, she assured herself. He was his parents’ child, after all. And Clarke and Madi were waiting.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Clarke felt like she was in a daze. She blinked against the harsh lighting as her eyes struggled to adjust to the jarring artificial brightness. She went to lift a hand to her throbbing head only to feel a twinge in her arm at the movement. She looked down and saw an IV protruding from one of her veins.</p><p>Everything hit her all at once.</p><p>The nausea.</p><p>The vomiting.</p><p>Raven.</p><p>The pain.</p><p>
  <strong>MADI.</strong>
</p><p>Clarke scrambles to sit up and finds Jackson by her side in an instant.</p><p>A sick feeling knots in the back of her throat, and this time she knows it’s not from any type of morning sickness.</p><p>“<em>Jackson…</em>” she cries weakly. It’s only a mere croak that she isn’t even sure he’d been able to hear. A desperate plea begging the man to tell her <em>anything </em>other than the unacceptable thought running rampant through her mind right now. It’s all she could manage as her vision clouded instantly. She drew in her quivering bottom lip and sucked it between her teeth as her entire body quaked in what threatened to be the worst kind of agony imaginable.</p><p>She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t <em>want </em>to breathe. She’d <em>refuse </em>to breathe if he <em>dared</em> tell her what she couldn’t bear to hear.</p><p>Her free hand latched onto his forearm in a panic. Her grip was like a vice – knuckles turning white the tighter she squeezed. His skin was already reddening beneath her grasp, but she didn’t care.</p><p>She didn’t care about anything anymore if what she’d feared most had come true.</p><p>“Clarke, you’re in medical and you’re severely dehydrated,” Jackson states calmly. “You lost consciousness before we got here, and the power went out the second we arrived, so Raven rushed out to take care of that,” he says in an impossibly soft tone.</p><p>Clarke’s intense gaze rips away from Jackson as she scans the room around her, suddenly registering the fact that they’re alone and the power is, in fact, on. <em>Thank God for Raven.</em></p><p>Jackson takes it as an opportunity to further explain. “Raven told us you’d vomited four times within an hour. Your abdominal muscles were essentially clenching nonstop, which, combined with the normal cramping your uterus is experiencing as it grows <em>and</em> the dehydration, lead to your cramping being more severe,” he rushes to explain.</p><p>“Like <em>miscarriage </em>cramping?!” Clarke squeaks out, her hand releasing Jackson’s arm and flying to her belly.</p><p>“No! No, Clarke, there’s no bleeding or even any spotting. There’s no indication of miscarriage, but to be on the safe side, I want to perform another transvaginal ultrasound. You were scheduled for one later in the week anyway.”</p><p>“Jackson, if there’s <em>any </em>possibility at all that I’ve mis – that I’ve lost…” She couldn’t even bring herself to say it. The thought alone made her chest constrict.</p><p>“She should be okay, Clarke,” Jackson cuts in. “I drew blood while you were unconscious and your hCG levels are right where they should be. Niylah also spread a highly concentrated form of chamomile oil across your abdomen to help dull the cramping. You’re on an IV drip of Sodium Chloride and I applied a leftover patch that we had here for nausea behind your right ear. We’re sending Emori, Jordan, and Miller to Sanctum to get some of Monty’s algae. Octavia and the others went to notify them.”</p><p>Jackson stifles a laugh as he watches Clarke’s face contort in disgust at just the thought of having to ingest more of her friend’s algae.</p><p>“We can administer it intravenously; don’t worry. It has more nutrients and electrolytes than Sodium Chloride alone. It should help you recover faster,” the doctor explains as he turns around to reach for a cart behind him.</p><p>Clarke studies his every move once he turns back around with the ultrasound machine in tow. “Where is Niylah?” she questions.</p><p>“She went to make some more of that oil. Your abdominal muscles calmed almost to the touch when she rubbed it in. I’ve never been a fan of herbal remedies, but I have to admit that it was impressive. I’m also all for anything that’s effective <em>and </em>sustainable.” Jackson finally reached her bedside and powered on the machine before preparing the wand.</p><p>Clarke grunts with the effort it takes to lift her legs, but she manages to spread them before he even has the chance to make the request of her.</p><p>Blood work and hCG levels weren’t good enough for Clarke. She needed to see for herself that her baby was still safely growing within her womb.</p><p>Jackson, taking Clarke’s stance as her way of telling him to hurry up, grabbed a stool and took a seat as he looked to her for confirmation that it was okay to start the process.</p><p>With her nod, Jackson heard Clarke let out a soft gasp as he inserted the wand and the screen before them lit up with shades of black, white, and grey just like the last time.</p><p>Clarke’s eyes immediately made their way to the spot where the little grey sphere had been before. What she finds instead is an oblong, slightly curved figure with a grey circle encompassing a black spot attached to the rest of it.</p><p>Jackson only confirms what she’s already realized. “You see that?” he uses the cursor to draw a blue box around the circle. “That’s her head, Clarke. Her brain and spine are developing.” His voice hitches just a bit, and he swears Niylah must have cut onions or something with the way his vision is suddenly swimming. If he were feeling this emotional, he knew he couldn’t stand to look at Clarke right now.</p><p>Clarke knew she shouldn’t be crying. She knew it wouldn’t do anything to help the rehydration process. But she just couldn’t help it. Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks in earnest as she studied her baby girl from head (<em>God, she already had a head</em>) to, well, <em>tail</em> for right now.</p><p>Her attention was drawn to a slight flicker in the image, and she had to blink a couple of times to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. She tore her gaze away and looked to Jackson, who was busy checking the measurements of her uterus, cervix, and the amniotic fluid. All of which were in the good, green standard range, according to Sanctum’s advanced ultrasound imaging software.</p><p>“Jackson, is she moving?” Clarke questioned hesitantly. His head flew up and she watches his brow scrunch in confusion.</p><p>She leans over slightly to point to the part of the screen where Madi was. “Tell me I’m not the only one seeing this,” she begs the man.</p><p>Jackson’s eyes widen and his jaw drops when his eyes land on the spot where she’s pointing. He whirls around and clicks a few more buttons without even acknowledging the blonde’s concerns. Clarke’s heartrate starts echoing through the room as her heart pounds in her chest just seeing the look on his face.</p><p>“Jackson what…” Before she can finish, another sound fills the room. A loud whoosh thrumming rapidly along with her own heartbeat.</p><p>Jackson laughs in disbelief, relief, wonder…all professional distance be damned at this point. This was incredible – <em>miraculous – </em>and he was lucky enough to bear witness to such a moment.</p><p>Clarke clasps both hands over her mouth, stifling the sobs that are erupting from her throat and causing her entire upper body to shake. Her hands drop as she lets her head fall back – her unrestricted sobs mingling with her own strangled laughter of joy and the fast beating of Madi’s heart.</p><p>Jackson recovers from his own awe quickly enough to record the sound, capture some images, and even take a quick clip. All of these ultrasounds are being recorded and stored already, but the clip could easily be loaded onto another drive for portability. He removed the wand and let the recording play on a loop.</p><p>“I think that’s Madi’s way of saying, ‘It’s not going to be that easy to get rid of me, mom,’” Jackson quips with a smirk in Clarke’s direction.</p><p><em>Mom</em>.</p><p>Clarke closes her eyes, her own heartbeat no longer sounding through the room, and focuses on the impossibly quick, steady beat of her daughter’s heart. A heart that likely didn’t even exist a week ago.</p><p>The mental picture of the grey sphere she’d had memorized was now replaced by the image of a peanut-shaped figure and the subtle flicker of the purest of hearts.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Madi had been sick for two days now. Fever, chills, aches, vomiting, shortness of breath – the works. Clarke hadn’t had a moment’s peace since she’d heard that first sneeze followed by a string of coughs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>This was the first time either of them had been sick, and Clarke’s confidence in her knowledge of Earth’s medicinal herbs was non-existent at this point. Not when this little girl would have to essentially be her test subject.</em>
</p><p><em>She’d been hesitant to administer anything to the child. She was just so </em>little<em>, and Clarke didn’t even know if it would work, let alone how to handle the dosing for such small child. She’d only known the girl for about two weeks now, and she was 0 for 2 in her prior experience with treating children.</em></p><p>
  <em>That thought was what terrified her the most. Vivid memories of Charlotte and Tris had plagued her from the second she’d realized Madi was burning up. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Madi had been running a fever for almost three days now, and she was only getting hotter to the touch. Clarke knew that if the fever got high enough or lasted much longer, the child could have a seizure or be left with serious brain damage. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She took a deep breath in and let it out as she steeled her nerves. The bowl she held shook along with her trembling hand, but she continued on her trek towards the large bed in the room where the tiny girl lay.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Madi,” Clarke whispered as she gently smoothed some matted hair away from the child’s forehead. “Madi,” she whispered a bit louder this time, lightly shaking the girl’s shoulder in the process. She damn near let out a cry of relief when the girl moaned and cracked her eyes open just a bit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m going to help you sit up a bit. I have some medicine for you,” Clarke cooed in Trig. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The girl groaned and Clarke knew she was trying to move but didn’t have the energy to do so. The blonde set the bowl down on the small table beside her and carefully slid her hands under the child’s back, the heat radiating off of the tiny body instantly warming Clarke’s hands to the touch. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She lifted the girl with even more care than she used when she stitched wounds. The child somehow felt smaller and more fragile in her grasp, and it made Clarke’s hands feel giant enough to crush her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She gently propped her up against some pillows, keeping one arm across the girl’s chest to steady her as she used the other to guide Madi’s head back against the pillow. The child’s eyes were closed again, so Clarke lightly patted her on the cheek a few times until she received a small groan in response.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Open your mouth for me, honey,” Clarke instructed soothingly in Trig. </em>
</p><p><em>Madi’s lips parted just enough to allow Clarke to grab the bowl and place it to the girl’s mouth, tilting it gingerly to make sure only a little went in at a time. Having the child choke and risk the possibility of aspiration pneumonia was </em>not <em>an option Clarke was willing to entertain.</em></p><p>
  <em>Clarke actually did let out a cry of relief this time as she heard the telltale sign of one swallow after another as the child’s throat bobbed with each slow sip until eventually the small bowl was empty.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She lowered herself onto the bed next to the girl and dared to lay down beside her. She’d been sitting by her bedside up until this point, but the ache of that position was really starting to catch up with her. Now all she could do was wait and pray to whomever was listening. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>An hour had passed with her just lying there watching the child. She watched as shallow, labored breathing became the more normal shallow breathing that accompanied slumber. She saw the wrinkle of discomfort that had plagued the little girl’s brow finally iron out. She took in the beads of sweat forming on the child’s forehead – a sure sign that her fever was on the verge of breaking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke, overwhelmed with relief and exhaustion, took a chance and lifted her head to rest it on the child’s tiny chest. The short little pants that only such small lungs could produce mixed with the sound of a little heart beating mightily within the tiny chest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>That was the last thing Clarke remembered before finally drifting off to sleep for the first time in days.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Ever since that night, listening to Madi’s even breathing and watching her peaceful little face as she slept had become the only thing that could calm Clarke even in the worst of times.</p><p>Those tiny lungs and that steady beat got her through what should’ve been arrival day after five years. They got her through every failure they faced at the bunker’s hatch in Polis. They got her through her own illnesses and each moment of sadness or chaos she faced during those six years in the valley.</p><p>The simple act even had the same calming effect during the threat of impending death at the hand of McCreary’s men. Clarke had just learned her mother was a drug addict, witnessed her overdose, got her through detox, restarted her heart, and had less than 24-hours to have her operating again if the three Griffin girls wanted to live.</p><p>Yet she still wore that same small smile and look of pure adoration as she watched her child sleep in her bed for the thousandth time.</p><p>Nothing calmed her like the physical reminders of Madi’s safety and security. Hearing the rapid little heartbeat that seemed to beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings had the same familiar effect on Clarke.</p><p>Something she thought she’d never have again after the beating of the child’s heart and her shallow breathing was somehow coupled with Madi’s lifelessness in Bardo.</p><p>Clarke barely registered Jackson handing her another strip of pictures and mentioning something about giving her a moment alone as the beat continued to play on a loop.</p><p>
  <em>Wait.</em>
</p><p>“Jackson!” Clarke grimaced as the man jumped at the sound of her yell.</p><p>“What is it?” he asked with a sense of urgency.</p><p>“Could you – could you hand me Madi’s book and one of those pencils, please?” she asked hesitantly.</p><p>Jackson watched her for a moment with soft eyes that held nothing but understanding in them. No sign of judgement present. A slow smile spread across his face as he nodded before doing as she asked and leaving the room with the promise he wouldn’t be gone for long and was only a call away.</p><p>Clarke didn’t bother to look up as he departed. Her eyes were glued to the hard cover of the book she’d nearly been tempted to destroy in all her despair just a week ago. Gaia had approached her the night after the former <em>Fleimkepa</em> had returned from helping perform <em>The Great Task</em>.</p><p>She wordlessly handed Clarke the recovered book only for Clarke to shove it back into the shocked woman’s hands with strict instructions to <em>burn it</em>.</p><p>Gaia’s eyes were a mixture of worry, sympathy, and pity. Clarke couldn’t take it. As the blonde turned away from the woman, she heard Gaia say, “I won’t make you accept this, Clarke, but I also won’t get rid of it. It’ll be kept safe in medical for when the day comes that you’re ready to open it.”</p><p>Sometimes Clarke wondered what she’d done to deserve such loyal, patient friends, but then she remembered all of her own sacrifices and suddenly didn’t feel as undeserving as she used to.</p><p>Her fingers grazed over the cover in reverence. She knew what lay just inside the front cover of the book: <strong><em>MADi kom Louwada Klironkru (aka MADi Griffin)</em></strong>, and she felt the tears gathering again at her mind’s image of the mismatched letters and scribbled writing in juxtaposition with the neat, crisp lines of Madi’s self-portrait.</p><p>Clarke decided that wasn’t something she could handle just yet, so she flipped to a page far back within the book – far enough that she knew it’d be blank. Luckily over half of the book was still blank, so Clarke didn’t have to flip very far to reach the first blank page.</p><p>One thing she’d been reading about in her latest parenting prep book was creating a baby book. Her parents weren’t able to do that for her as paper was too scarce of a resource, but they did keep video logs on a tablet of major milestones throughout her life.</p><p>Clarke couldn’t exactly do that for Madi at the moment, but what she could do was carefully tear one of the images from the two strips she now had and place them on separate blank pages in the book. She’d sketch those same images right beneath the actual image. She’d do this for each sonogram and every month following Madi’s birth.</p><p>This would still be Madi’s book. It would <em>always </em>be her book. It would be a book that told the story of Madi kom Louwada Klironkru, the brave little hero sent to save her mother long before she was even born, and the story of Madi Griffin, <em>just</em> Madi Griffin, no other titles necessary – the girl who’d saved her mother yet again. The little girl who, as Jake Griffin would likely say, would be Clarke’s new greatest masterpiece.</p><p>Clarke could picture her father standing over her shoulder, examining the photos with nothing but pride and love in his eyes.</p><p>She could practically hear what he’d say. <em>You’ve really outdone yourself this time, kiddo</em>.</p><p>Her mother would be telling her what an amazing mother she was going to be. What an amazing mother she already <em>was</em>.</p><p>And she’d simply agree while she wiped away more tears of joy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I couldn't leave you guys hanging for long. I promised I wouldn't. Ya'll know I could NEVER do Clarke and Madi like that. Then I'd have no reason or inspiration left to continue writing!</p><p>Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals, and a Happy New Year!</p><p>P.S. I'll probably most definitely update again before New Years - I just couldn't resist throwing a Home Alone 2 quote in this note.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Old Lies Through New Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jordan and Emori both find more in Sanctum than they bargained for.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jordan counted each step aloud as he fumbled his way through the woods. He <em>really </em>needed to keep his eyes on the ground ahead of him, but he was too busy looking around for noticeable landmarks he’d need to help him get back to the shield.</p><p>267, <em>crunch. </em>268, <em>thwack</em>.</p><p>His cheek collided with the dirt as his hands splayed out on the ground in front of him while his legs split on the ground that lay behind. He hadn’t been able to regain his balance this time.</p><p><em>Fiddlesticks</em>.</p><p>He slid his hands back to either side of his head and used his arms to propel his upper body off of the forest floor, clumps of mud falling unceremoniously from his cheek as if to add to his embarrassment. He groaned as he got to his knees, then again when he finally pushed himself to his feet.</p><p>What good was Earth Skills, or <em>any </em>planet skills class, when the only surface you had to practice on in space was flat?</p><p>He rolled his shoulders back before brushing whatever dirt he could see from his sleeves and chest. He spared a glance back at the offending object that he’d failed to see and realized it was a trip wire.</p><p>The trip wire he knew surrounded the back of Gabriel’s main hut.</p><p>He felt his face split into a grin as he looked up and was met with the familiar sight of the well-concealed handiwork of the <em>CoG</em>. Jordan stumbled a few steps before breaking out into a run and reaching the, mercifully unguarded, front entrance.</p><p>The door gave way with little effort and he took his first step only to jump back at the loud creak of the floorboard protesting under his unwelcomed weight. Quickly searching the floor for the sturdier looking boards, Jordan carefully made his way over to a spot in the floor where Gabriel was rumored to have kept a secret trunk.</p><p>A trunk that became not-so-secret once he’d taken it out in front of Octavia.</p><p>Jordan made quick work of the unsecured boards before unsuccessfully attempting to heave the trunk out of its hole with a strained grunt. It turns out that 200 years’ worth of collected information and valuable belongings was freaking <em>heavy</em>.</p><p>Too heavy to carry the almost 300 steps needed to get back to the shield – even if he had help.</p><p>He felt his earlier sense of accomplishment deflate. He’d have to settle for picking and choosing what he deemed most helpful. The book of medicinal uses for Sanctum’s creatures and foliage was <em>most definitely </em>at the top of that list. It was over six inches thick, and Jordan found himself wondering if he could even manage to carry <em>that </em>on his own. It looked like it could’ve easily composed half of the trunk’s weight.</p><p>There were a couple of jars he lifted out as well, already guessing that their uses would be outlined in the enormous book he wrestled with only moments earlier.</p><p>There were a lot of documents scattered about, and Jordan was sure they’d held some importance at some point, but nothing appeared to be of value to their people now. He was nearing the bottom of the trunk after filtering through the seemingly endless mounds of documents when he came across a much smaller leather-bound book.</p><p>Jordan ran his index and middle fingers over the silver inscription on the cover.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Death to Primes</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>He frowned as he turned the book over in his hands, looking for more information about the book’s contents without actually having to open it.</p><p>The crease in his forehead deepened when he lifted back the cover and scanned the first page. It was someone’s story. Someone’s <em>detailed </em>story. <em>Gabriel’s </em>story.</p><p>Jordan took the time to make his way through all twenty-one pages of it, only to find the bottom of the last page signed in a thicker, darker ink than the rest of the story had used. In fact, it didn’t appear to be ink at all.</p><p>He ran his finger over Gabriel’s signature, a signature, that, much to Jordan’s horror, had been written in Gabriel’s own blood. Nightblood. He’d re-read the line just above it, and the signature served as a vow to the cause of ending the reign of the Primes. A blood oath.</p><p>His frown turned into a scowl as he flipped through page after page, finding the personal, abominable stories of every member of the <em>Children of Gabriel</em> and all of their collaborators scribbled in various types of handwriting. All ending with the crimson red signature of the story’s owner.</p><p>There were <em>so </em>many names. More than there ever should’ve been. His eyes stung at the thought of the overwhelming amount of people who’d all been rejected by society – by their <em>family</em>. And to think he’d advocated for them at one point – even <em>admired </em>their “peaceful” ways. The thought disgusted him.</p><p>He just kept turning pages, his heart breaking even more at a particularly tragic story near the end of the book. It was the story of one of the <em>CoG’s </em>only “inside” collaborators.</p><p>A story signed by one Cillian Joseph Marks.</p><p>A single, hot tear made its way down Jordan’s right cheek – the saltiness of the tear contrasting with the bitterness of the bile he tasted at the back of his throat.</p><p>He flipped the back cover just enough for it to fall shut on its own and gingerly transferred the book from its spot on the floor onto the blanket he decided to use to carry the items he’d be taking with him.</p><p>There were more stories – more people – who were worth remembering than just those who’d been in their own little world, and he’d make sure their names were known, too.</p><p>He’d be able to provide Clarke with more information on her Mystery Man, and Madi would one day hear stories she’d never heard before. <em>Real </em>stories about her father – not ones Clarke would make up to appease the girl.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Emori followed Jordan’s instructions and gathered a cart full of the algae before finally reaching the room that the boy inhabited up until the day he entered cryo. She’d never actually seen his room. There hadn’t exactly been time for a detailed tour before she left as part of the planet Alpha exhibition team.</p><p>Her gaze flitted from one wall to the next, her smile growing more and more with every little detail she took in. There were screen grabs of Earth printed and tacked onto the walls along with various maps, constellation memorization charts, and lists.</p><p>
  <em>What kind of kid decorates their room with lists?</em>
</p><p>She steps closer to read the print only to find that they contained things he wanted to do when he landed on a planet, questions he wanted to ask, and notes of all the character traits he’d gathered about his parents’ friends over the years.</p><p>Emori spotted her own section on a paper that was shared with Murphy, much to her chagrin. Her friends must have taken some liberties and romanticized the wayward couple in their stories.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Emori:</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>“Smart, fast learner, a lot friendlier than she would have you think…”</em>
</p><p>Emori huffed out a laugh at that one. Maybe they were more honest with the kid than she originally thought. Her eyes scanned the page for where she’d left off.</p><p>
  <em>“tough, loyal, sarcastic, and a lot braver than she’ll ever give herself credit for.”</em>
</p><p>Emori gulped as she read that last part. If it had been written in neater, more feminine loops, she would’ve sworn that Harper wrote that line herself. It was what the blonde had spent years telling her, almost word-for-word.</p><p>She swallowed against the lump in her throat and her jaw clenched so tightly that it hurt. But nothing seemed to hurt as much as the thought of her departed friend. There were some losses that just seemed to stick with you, and she knew there were at least three that just about everyone had in common.</p><p>She slammed her gloved hand against the paper, shielding it from view so she could finally tear her eyes away and get back to business. Lowering her gaze closer to the floor kept her from further examining the walls, and she finally came across four metal L-shaped legs that served as the stabilizers of a steel cradle.</p><p>The metal legs, of course, had wheels at the very bottom. Monty had clearly used one of the mobile computer carts for the base, so the wheels locked into place and had a mechanism that could be activated to secure the four posts into anchors on the floor. The wheel locks would do just fine on the concrete floor of the bunker, but the anchors would’ve been necessary had they been travelling through space like Monty and Harper had been when this cradle was originally used.</p><p>Emori grinned at Monty’s thoroughness and ingenuity as her right hand glided along the soft, cushioned lining of the interior. The exterior was shaped like a vertical rectangle made of insulated steel to keep the metal from getting too cold.</p><p>Space wasn’t exactly known for its warmth, and it sure as hell didn’t have different seasons that provided some reprieve from the cold. She’d found that out the hard way during those six long years.</p><p>Years she wouldn’t trade for anything. They were years that gave her a family. Years that lead her to where she was today.</p><p>Her <em>son </em>would be using this cradle, and that thought alone simply blew her mind. This all still felt like some vivid dream. Part of her was afraid she’d open her eyes one day only to find that it was all some cruelly elaborate simulation her mind had created while in cryo. <em>A dream within a dream.</em></p><p>She squeezed the side of the cradle, the feel of frigid metal against her hand helping to ground her in reality, just as she’d hoped.</p><p>
  <em>This was no dream.</em>
</p><p>Emori disengaged the legs from their anchor points, unlocked the wheels, and heaved out a grunt as she maneuvered the cradle out the door and down towards the control station.</p><p>Getting behind those monitors was an opportunity she couldn’t resist while here. Raven had brought the mobile computer carts from Sanctum’s labs and Eligius, but they couldn’t physically move the control system of the ship. Sure, Raven could probably move most of the files to portable drives, but she hadn’t had the time nor the physical energy to make the trip from Sanctum’s stone room all the way out to the ship.</p><p>Indra had been the one to gather what Raven requested, but the seasoned Trikru warrior certainly hadn’t thought to look for the same things Emori would’ve known to look for. There could be all kinds of useful information hidden within the ship’s files.</p><p>But mostly Emori was just giving herself every excuse to get in front of the monstrous system. Sure, the tech on The Ring had been impressive, but any tech seemed impressive to her at the time since it was her first real exposure to anything of that nature. She’d been itching for a chance to take a crack at this system from the moment she initially passed the entryway.</p><p>She left the cradle just inside of the doorway as she eagerly made her way towards the dark monitors. Her reflection was quickly replaced with a bright logo that threatened to burn her retinas as it flashed across each screen. She was then immediately greeted with a prompt to scan a handprint. There was even a helpful little graphic of a digital hand spreading its fingers before being placed palm-down on the little digital sensor.</p><p><em>Shit</em>. Hopefully, there was some sort of override. Monty, Raven, and Shaw were probably the only ones it would recognize. She bent over to get underneath the desk, intent on removing the panel below to expose the wiring. Before she could even feel for a seam in the metal sheet, she heard a tinny female voice announce, “<strong><em>Profile Recognized</em></strong>.”</p><p>She almost slammed her head on the bottom of the desk as she shot back up. Emori looked to the main monitor and was met with an almost disturbing image of herself, eyes closed and complexion much paler than usual. She recognized the Eligius logo on the shirt in the photo. It was the shirt she’d put on before she went into cryo.</p><p>She desperately searched the screens in front of her, looking for some sort of explanation as to how the system recognized her. At the top right of the screen, there was the green glow of a partial palm print. Emori looked down and realized her right hand was partly covering the sensor from where she’d rested her hand when she’d ducked below the surface.</p><p>The sensor recognized the partial print because her hands had been positioned flat against the bed of her cryo chamber while she was in it. There were sensors in the chambers that scanned the body continuously to monitor and maintain the health status of the individual in a chamber. There was also a DNA profile that was available to view. According to a quick glance of said profile, it had been created using DNA gathered from her sweat.</p><p>
  <em>Gross, but cool.</em>
</p><p>Her eyes scanned the rest of the screen in wonder, seeing a folder that held files of all of her measured vitals over the course of the 125 years she’d been in cryo. It also showed a labeled 2D layout of the neighboring chambers that had surrounded hers.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>John Murphy</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Bellamy Blake</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Octavia Blake</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Raven Reyes</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Clarke Griffin</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Madi Griffin</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Abby Griffin</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Marcus Kane</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Jordan Green</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Her name was the tenth and final chamber in the bottom right corner of a smaller screen. Apparently it only showed the user the nine chambers around it. Niylah, Miller, Jackson, Indra, and Gaia were missing. Luckily, they’d chosen their pods strategically so that they’d all be near one another. Must’ve made it a hell of a lot easier for Monty to keep track of them through the years.</p><p>Emori scooted her chair over to the monitor farthest to the left. It was the only one she hadn’t gotten a look at yet. It was filled with tens of thousands of files arranged in alphabetical order. She almost immediately spotted a file labeled “<strong><em>Algae</em></strong>,” and proceeded to copy all of the data from it onto a drive she found lying near the controls.</p><p>She’d checked the drive first, of course, before wiping it. Just a couple of folders containing information on Planet Alpha, but there was nothing of interest there. They knew more about Sanctum now than the Eligius IV crew ever did.</p><p>She’d finally made it into the <em>Bs </em>and was finding it harder to justify spending more and more time here. Time would hardly pass on Earth, but Jordan and Miller may be getting worried. She was about to shut everything down when something piqued her interest.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Biological Relations</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>She damn near jammed her finger with the force used to make her selection at such a breakneck speed. The file felt like it was taking <em>forever</em> to load when in reality it was probably only about ten seconds.</p><p>She knew about the DNA tests that Jackson had run on Clarke. She knew they were accurate. But curiosity was gnawing at her like a panther chewed through its prey. The revelation behind Madi’s biological relations may have been right under their noses all this time.</p><p>Emori scrolled through all the prisoner familial connections with mild annoyance. Evidently there were <em>a lot </em>of cousins who kept crime in the family. She used the filter to narrow her search to show more closely related biological matches.</p><p>For some reason, it listed the weaker matches first, but it still narrowed the results down to about 9 instead of 105. She was finally seeing names she recognized.</p><p>At the top was Bellamy and Octavia. No surprise there.</p><p>She gasped when she saw the line underneath of theirs and clicked it to see more information.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Abby Griffin – Madi Griffin: maternal grandparent</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Emori gaped at the screen. There it was in huge, bold letters. The information had been here this whole time, but nobody would’ve ever possibly thought to look. There had been no reason to. How the hell were any of them supposed to guess that the child Clarke found had actually been created using future events some alien species predicted before sending the kid to Earth via some hidden stone during <em>Praimfaya</em>?</p><p>Holy <em>shit </em>their lives were <em>seriously </em>complex. This is why it was best not to dwell too much on the details. As Raven would say, it was an absolute <em>mindfuck</em>.</p><p>She finally managed to close her mouth, but that was only after she’d choked on the dryness that had taken over. Then she went back to the other results.</p><p>Clarke and Abby, Monty and Jordan, Harper and Jordan, <strong><em>Clarke and Madi</em></strong>.</p><p>She still couldn’t get over how the information had just been <em>right here </em>this <em>whole time</em>. Fuck. Monty would be kicking himself right now if he were here.</p><p>She was about to exit out of the window and actually shut the system down for real before she realized there were two more names that she recognized in the results.</p><p>Two names that should <em>not </em>have held any connection to one another.</p><p>Her heart felt like it was in her throat as she clicked on the line right above Clarke and Madi’s.</p><p>She riffled through some of the drawers before finding another drive, shoving it into a slot, and transferring the folder’s narrowed results to it.</p><p>She had a bad feeling about this, but they all deserved to know. <em>She </em>deserved to know. Did she already know? Did any of them know? That didn’t seem possible at this point. There was no reason to doubt the accuracy of the findings. The tech had already managed to pass the biggest test of all by decoding Madi’s lineage long before any of them had.</p><p><em>Holy shit. </em>She had to get back to Earth. <em>Now</em>.</p><p>-</p><p>Emori raced through the woods like a madwoman, the cradle thrashing wildly in her wake as she navigated the terrain as swiftly as possible. Her vision was focused solely on the sight of the shield that lie in the clearing she was now only yards from. Her lungs were struggling to accommodate the accelerated pace, and all she could think about was having a chance to get the burning in her chest to stop.</p><p>A burning that quickly spread all through her entire left side as she forcefully collided with the <em>last </em>person she wanted to encounter.</p><p>“What the actual <em>fuck, </em>John?!” Emori hissed – partially in anger, mostly in pain. She reached towards her ribs that seemed to have borne the brunt of the impact.</p><p>Murphy let out a guttural grunt of his own as he stumbled to his feet, offering her a hand which she so blatantly ignored. Emori rolled to her right side and propped herself up on her elbow while straightening out her right leg to try and get herself back to her feet with as little movement to the left side of her torso as possible.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>!” she cursed as her right foot slid out from underneath of her, leaving her almost crashing to the ground again.</p><p><em>Almost</em>, had it not been for Murphy’s quick reflexes despite the obvious physical discomfort he was experiencing.</p><p>Emori didn’t bother to fight him off – the searing jolt in her side being the only thing she cared about at the moment. Once she was upright, she took in a few short gasps of air. Taking deep breaths was <em>completely </em>out of the question right now. Pain shot across her ribcage just from the few shallow pants she’d attempted.</p><p>Murphy studied her for a moment, his hands hovering near her petite frame until he was sure she was stable on her feet again. Once she was, he moved past her to right the cradle that had fallen along with her. He inspected it for just a moment, pulling at its legs and jostling it from side-to-side to ensure it was unaffected by the impact.</p><p>“<em>What. The hell. Are you doing here?</em>” Emori seethes breathlessly between gritted teeth.</p><p>“Oh just, ya know,” Murphy casually gestures to the surrounding woods around them, “getting all this fresh air knocked right out of me,” he says dryly. There’s no trace of his patented lopsided grin this time.</p><p>He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly when he recognizes the fury in her eyes.</p><p>“Jackson told me you’d be here and that you’d likely be grabbing <em>our</em>, yes, <em>our</em> son’s cradle. I thought that was something I should be a part of as his father, don’t you think?” Murphy deadpans, hands crashing against his upper thighs with a smack.</p><p>All thoughts of pain and potentially cracked ribs fly out of her mind as Emori sees red at his words.</p><p>“So <em>now </em>you want to be his father, John?!” her breath hitches from the pain, but she powers through. “You get to decide when to waltz back in, <em>just like that</em>?” she sneers as she limps towards the cradle to put some distance between the man and Blake’s bed.</p><p>Murphy drags out a labored exhale as he knots a hand into his hair and tugs at it in frustration. “That’s not fair and you know it, Emori,” Murphy rebuts in a low tone. “A lot was sprung on me and I reacted badly…”</p><p>“<em>Badly</em>, John?” Emori yips in disbelief, eyes cold and breathing ragged.</p><p>“I was wrong, okay?” Murphy snaps, flinging his hands out in front of him in irritation. “All I heard in that moment was that something was wrong with my kid, <em>our </em>kid, and that Jackson didn’t have the answers. All I could see was getting even more attached to a child who quite possibly had an expiration date stamped across his forehead!”</p><p>Murphy knew that wasn’t the right choice of words. None of this was coming out right. But it’s the only explanation he had.</p><p>His bottom lip wobbled as he drew in a shaky breath. “I chose to lead a life of solitude for a reason, Emori. Before you, obviously,” he gestured at her with a gentle flick of his wrist. “Being angry is easier than feeling anything else. Loving someone <em>is </em>pain in the end, and I’ve learned that that pain can be worth it. <em>You </em>are worth it,” Murphy admits in a soft voice.</p><p>Emori sniffles as she turns her back on her boyfriend. “But he’s not?” she rasps, losing her battle with her composure.</p><p>Murphy pinches the bridge of his nose until he starts to see spots. “Goddamnit, Emori, that kid has the power to break me in a way that not even a fucking cockroach could survive. I love that little boy more and more every fucking day, and the thought of something happening…of him not making it – it just – I just…”</p><p>He shoves his fist up to his mouth, digging his front teeth into his knuckles in a last-ditch attempt to keep from crying out. His breathing is just as ragged as hers, and his collar is already damp with tears.</p><p>If he keeps going, if he keeps even <em>thinking </em>about what could happen – he’s going to lose more than just all control.</p><p>He sees Emori’s shoulders shaking in his peripheral vision. He hears her silent cries of anguish and her loud moans of physical pain. But he can’t make his way to her. He can’t move. He’s about to drain every ounce of strength he has left to make this one last statement, even if his voice cracks with every word like he’s fourteen again.</p><p>“Losing him – losing you – neither one of those things are options for me anymore. The Cockroach’s son, the son of the most beautiful woman on any planet, the namesake of Bellamy Blake – he’s going to grow up to be something special, mark my words. It’s our job to make sure of that. You may not believe me right now, Emori, and that’s okay, because I’m all in regardless. I’ll prove it to you. But more importantly, I’ll prove it to Bam Bam. I fucking <em>promised </em>him, and I’m promising you the same.”</p><p>He choked out every bit of it, but he knew she’d heard each word the moment she turned around to face him. Her eyes were begging him to pull through this time. Every single piece of her was screaming at him not to screw this up because she can’t keep doing this.</p><p>“John…” she urged in a whisper.</p><p>She didn’t need to say another word. He was there before she could even blink, resting his forehead against her own as he clasped his hands around hers.</p><p>“I know, Emori. I know,” he whispers right back.</p><p>They stand there like that, eyes closed, just taking in each other’s presence after more than a week apart. Eventually his breathing returns to normal and hers calms enough to only be slightly alarming.</p><p>Murphy finally registers her physical injuries. “We need to get you to Jackson,” he tugs lightly at her hand.</p><p>Just then, they hear a rustle behind them and turn to see an out of breath Jordan breaking through the clearing with a sack slung over his shoulder.</p><p>Seeing Monty’s alarm and Harper’s worry at the same time on the same face <em>still </em>freaks Murphy out, just a little.</p><p>“Everything okay?” Jordan asks, his voice strained with fatigue.</p><p>Murphy clears his throat before gesturing to Emori. “Yeah, we just need to be getting back. Think you can help me with this?” he jams his thumb back towards the abandoned cradle behind him.</p><p>Jordan’s whole face lights up as he nods and, despite his clear exhaustion, he swings the sack into the cradle in one smooth motion and pushes it forward.</p><p>Miller already has his helmet on and the code for Earth entered by the time they make it to the stone room. They all step into the swirling sea of green that’ll take them back home wielding a lot more than just cradles and medical supplies.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Surprise! Merry Christmas Eve! My Christmas gift to you all is the Memori moment, which I know a few of you really wanted.</p><p>Unfortunately since this story is kind of a blanket story for the group on Earth, we won't always get to see every character in every chapter. This is also still mainly a Clarke-centric story at its core, too (don't worry, the irony of her absence in this chapter isn't lost on me lol). Although I am adding some exciting elements that I hope to explore with you all in the New Year!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Born or Made?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We take a closer look at Bellamy's life on The Ark - both times around - as it all culminates in a couple of shocking revelations.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Please read*</p><p>Happy New Year, first off! Second off, I am SO sorry about how late this chapter is. It was actually supposed to be much longer than this so I could explore reactions more, but that will have to wait until next chapter.</p><p>Not sure if I've mentioned this before, but I have a rare neurodegenerative disease and recently went through a med change that I'm still adjusting to. This is the most I've been able to move since Christmas. With that said, I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again, but I promise to always do what I can when I can. This is also mostly unedited because writing this much alone took several tries.</p><p>I have big plans for this story, so I hope you all can be patient and hang around for the ride! A big thank you to all of my loyal readers and reviewers. Much love to you all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Bellamy <strong>hated </strong>having to go to Go-Sci, but it was time for the annual “reduce, reuse, repurpose” speech from some important figurehead who got first dibs on everything while Bellamy and his fellow Factory neighbors got last pick of the scraps. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>This would be his third year having to attend, as it was geared towards kids age 13 and up. Although they seemed to be making an exception this year as he overheard a young Latina girl haughtily announce that she was invited to attend despite only being 12.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Something about her welding skills at such a tender age and her aptitude for working with machinery, blah, blah, blah. He got the picture. Hell, the whole room got the picture. The young girl was some sort of genius, yet she somehow failed to notice the collective groan coming from the kids around her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy guessed that she spent more time with machines than she did other kids, and he kind of resented her for that. She had the luxury of socializing – something his sister would never have. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>That brought up the polarizing thought of wondering if Octavia could’ve been some sort of prodigy had she had more than just himself and their mom as her sources for information. Bellamy couldn’t even share everything he knew with the 10-year-old. Their mother censored what O learned in an effort to “shield her from the ugliness of their world.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy knew what his mother really meant. He knew she didn’t want his sister asking questions that Aurora didn’t want to answer. He knew the woman would rather continue shrouding O in a bubble of fear to keep the child’s curiosity at bay and her behavior in line. </em>
</p><p><em>When Bellamy was 10, he had learned about </em>all <em>the differences between boys and girls, and how those differences could, well, </em>complement, <em>one another in certain ways. He’d learned all about contraception, consent, and how choosing a partner wisely was absolutely critical under their current population circumstances.</em></p><p>
  <em>Octavia wouldn’t have much use for contraception because she’d never have the chance to choose a partner. But she at least deserved to know more about humanity and science in general other than how The Ark stays in orbit. </em>
</p><p><em>His mother, of course, had forbidden any lessons regarding reproduction. She claimed it wasn’t a pressing topic, but Bellamy knew Aurora didn’t want O asking the same questions Bellamy had at that age. Questions that arose upon learning that </em>everyone <em>had a dad, contrary to what his mother had told him. It was biologically impossible to not have a dad.</em></p><p>
  <em>Aurora had shut down her son’s line of questioning immediately. After O had went to bed, she informed Bellamy that while he may have had a biological father, he would <strong>never </strong>have a dad. Then she forbade him from ever venturing into the topic again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe his resentment towards the 12-year-old genius was misplaced, but that was something he didn’t have time to unpack. Something he couldn’t afford to unpack if he wanted to hold onto his sanity.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The burden he carried of caring for his sister grew heavier and heavier the older both Blake children got. The weight of the secret felt almost crushing at this point, and it had less to do with getting caught now and more to do with feeling guilt over everything O was missing out on. The guilt that came from the life she’d never be able to have.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy was ripped away from his thoughts as someone finally cleared their throat with unnecessary force, effectively silencing the room. His dark eyes snapped up to find a man around his height scanning his surroundings – deep wrinkles forming beside both eyes as the older man narrowed them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>This man wasn’t the usual presenter, but Bellamy felt like he’d seen him before. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man went on to explain that his family originated from what had been Venezuela’s station before the first Unity Day. He was now the Lead Welder and had recently taken charge of the Repurposing Program after spending years running the ship’s turnover department. </em>
</p><p><em>Now instead of just stripping people’s living quarters to prepare for the next man up, this guy was stripping people of </em>all <em>their possessions to give to the next man up. </em></p><p>
  <em>Helluva promotion, Bellamy mused darkly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The guy, Ruben Figuera was his name, called attention to the young Latina girl in the room. The older man explained that the girl, Raven Reyes, was the youngest kid ever allowed to perform significant repairs on The Ark without direct supervision. He said with her welding, troubleshooting, and diagnostic skills, she was well on her way to being an outstanding future Zero Gravity Mechanic. Whatever the hell that was.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The girl preened under Mr. Figuera’s attention, and Bellamy found himself examining Raven’s features and comparing them to that of the older man. He’d already noted that they didn’t share the same last name, but he also knew that nepotism was one of the best ways to quickly catapult to the top. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alarm crept up Bellamy’s spine the longer he studied Mr. Figuera’s profile. The man bore no resemblance to the girl he’d been praising, but his features were familiar. Eerily familiar. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was a handsome man by any and every standard. At 16 years old, Bellamy had learned a thing or two about girls and what they’d deemed to be conventionally attractive. Mr. Figuera checked every box.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a steep, flat curve to the man’s nose that led down to flared, rounded nostrils. His bone structure was sharp and defined, but not boxy, and a deeply dimpled chin was nestled where either side of his jawline met.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ruben’s hair was dark, just about pitch black, with more than a few strands of silver interspersed throughout the thick, curly mane. His skin tone was barely a shade darker than Bellamy’s own tanned skin.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What had caught Bellamy’s attention the most, though, were the mismatched freckles peppering the man’s cheeks and trailing across his nose. They faded the closer he looked to the man’s forehead and chin – only a few stragglers were speckled on those particular areas.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy, much to his horror, had only ever seen freckles like that in the mirror.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He felt his eyes beginning to sting, and he swore it was only because he couldn’t tear his gaze away long enough to blink. It had nothing to do with the sick feeling blooming in his stomach and leaking into his chest like a sink that was on the verge of overflowing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy felt himself beginning to squirm in his chair when he realized Mr. Figuera’s scan of the room was about to lead directly to him. When their eyes finally met, Bellamy saw that the older man’s were a mirror of his own. The teen’s throat ached from the knot that was forming as he saw Ruben’s dark orbs flicker in surprise before widening in recognition.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The moment was so brief that Bellamy was left wondering if he’d only imagined it, but he knew he hadn’t when the older man’s gaze immediately flew from the boy to the ground at his feet.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy could feel his jaw tensing and his face harden at the cowardice of the man’s actions. He was up and out of his seat before he could even plan his next move. The last thing he heard before fleeing the room was the Head of Repurposing instruct the guards to let the young man go.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That was the last time Bellamy Blake ever laid eyes on his biological father.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy had faced a lot of demons since his return to The Ring with Spacekru a year ago. But the demon of his that he couldn’t seem to slay was the one staring back at him in the mirror.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was no longer just a physical carbon copy of the man he’d seen as a monster – <strong>he </strong>was now the monster haunting some poor kid’s dreams. Bellamy Blake had been seeing another man in the mirror since he was 16 years old, but the face before him now felt more foreign to him than ever.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was faced with the reflection of the man who’d unintentionally gotten his mother floated and his little sister locked up. The man who’d taught the Commander of Death herself how to use a gun. The man who’d helped kill some people he’d considered friends – people who’d helped him – to save some other people who’d done nothing but hurt him. The man who actively participated in the slaughter of 300 innocent warriors who were only there to help.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man who’d closed the rocket’s door, leaving his best friend and co-leader to burn alive somewhere outside.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy splashed another handful of cold water on his face before looking back to examine his dripping wet reflection. Maybe monsters really were born and not made.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes looked to a spot in the mirror in an effort to see who was entering as the door to the lavatory creaked open to reveal none other than the genius little girl from all those years prior.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Raven smiled slyly as she met Bellamy’s gaze in the mirror. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding to avoid tonight’s dish duty,” she quipped with an amused quirk of her eyebrow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy dropped his eyes to the sink in front of him, his hands gripping the porcelain sides like a vice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His voice was even more haggard than his appearance. “I think I’m even worse than he was, Raven.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy heard the door slam shut the way it did whenever someone let it go. He felt a slender hand grab his left shoulder before he heard her voice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Raven’s brow wrinkles in something other than annoyance for once. “Who’s he, Bellamy?” she asks softly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy doesn’t look up as he whispers, “My father.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Raven snatches her hand from Bellamy’s shoulder like she’d received an electric shock. Her head tilts as she watches his every move with suspicious eyes. </em>
</p><p><em>She never realized Bellamy actually </em>knew <em>who his father was. She always thought he was just as in the dark about his paternal lineage as she was her own.</em></p><p>
  <em>Bellamy fills the silence by answering the unspoken question that lingers. “Ruben Figuera was my biological father, Raven,” he rasps out. He’s never spoken the words aloud before, and that thought alone was enough to make him wince.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes travel up to the spot in the mirror so he can see Raven’s reflection again. If it weren’t for the circumstances, he’d be chuckling at the look of pure shock that adorned the face of the normally unflappable Raven Reyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It wasn’t often that one of The Ark’s youngest Zero G mechanics could be caught so off guard.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Raven looks away in an effort to try and collect herself enough to form a proper response. She quickly realizes that such a thing didn’t exist during a time like this. Instead, she opts for her own reveal.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know it probably won’t help to hear this, but I’d secretly hoped he was my dad when I was little,” Raven admits as she uncomfortably shifts her weight to her bad leg and back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She feels a laugh bubble in her throat at the irony of the situation. “I knew he had a wife and son, so it always seemed impossible. I was like 10 when I realized it was impossible for a completely different reason,” Raven trails off with a huff.</em>
</p><p><em>Raven rolls her eyes at the image of Bellamy’s confused face in the mirror. “Guys like Ruben could have whatever woman they wanted, but he was different. He seemed to have these unbreakable standards. He’d </em>never <em>cheat on his wife with someone who chased after him. Someone as desperate as my mom,” Raven explains with a sad smile.</em></p><p>
  <em>Bellamy’s eyes darken as his gaze drifts back down to the sink. “My mother was the best at breaking through those standards and being discreet about it. Unless you lived with her, that is,” he grinds out as his jaw clenches at the memories.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Raven reaches out a confident hand to place on his shoulder this time. She could certainly empathize with the last part of his statement. She’d spent one too many nights on the hallway floor outside of their quarters when she was little. That was how Finn essentially ended up taking her in. He’d tripped over her one night on his way to the community bathroom and the rest was history. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Raven knew what she was about to say was risky, but risks like this were much easier to take compared to what they’d faced not so long ago. It helped that there were literally only six other people left to interact with, so no one could stay mad at anyone for long. Except for maybe Murphy, but he was a different story. Cockroaches could always be lured out with food.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Believe it or not, he wasn’t a monster, Bellamy,” Raven states firmly – only a hint of hesitation in her tone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy finally looks up again, a mixture of curiosity and accusation spelled out over his reflection. He remains silent, though, quietly giving his consent for his friend to explain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Raven inhales deeply before continuing. “There was a reason I’d always wanted him to be my dad. He hung around my neck of the woods a lot as the Lead Welder, and he took me under his wing almost right away. He was patient and attentive – something my mother never was.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She lets out the breath she’d been holding. She never did find out who her actual biological father was, but she knew for a fact that it hadn’t been him.</em>
</p><p><em>“When, uh, when the news about your, uh, family broke – he was a councilmember. I asked him what they were going to do with the son – </em>you – <em>and he got all defensive. He snapped at me and told me that you didn’t deserve to die for something that wasn’t your fault. He said you didn’t deserve any punishment…that you only ever deserved a normal life,” Raven reveals with a knowing look in Bellamy’s mirror.</em></p><p><em>Bellamy gasps as he finally turns to look at her – </em>really <em>look at her. He was dangling near the edge right now and she held the power to send him completely over.</em></p><p>
  <em>“You were the second child, Bellamy,” Raven whispers, like the hushed tone would somehow lighten the impact of her words. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“His son, Mathias, your half-brother, was eleven years older than you, Bellamy. If Ruben or your mom had revealed your paternity, or if he claimed you in any way…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I would’ve been the one who ended up in the Sky Box or floated,” Bellamy finishes for her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Raven only nods as she watches a wide-eyed Bellamy slide his back down the wall until he’s seated on the cold floor. She lowers herself down to be right next to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The first sob that rings out startles her, but she quickly regains her composure and wraps Bellamy in an awkward one-arm embrace.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her revelation along with the memory of that time in his life finally broke through the wall that had started crumbling down years ago.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Octavia’s head shoots up as the door to their room violently swings open. She didn’t even have time to get situated in her spot under the floor like she was supposed to whenever the door was open. The little girl was crouched halfway down into her shallow cutout in the floor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her mother leaps towards the door, trying to block whoever had swung it open from entering further. The door slams shut almost as quickly as it had opened. Almost as quickly as Octavia’s heart was beating.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She couldn’t help the cry of relief and adoration that escapes from her at the sight of her big brother. She was about to barrel towards him for a hug when yelling stops her in her tracks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Seriously, mom, the Lead Welder?!” Bellamy’s voice booms whenever he yells now instead of being all shrill and squeaky like it used to. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Octavia scrambles to cover her ears with her hands and stands in her hole. At 10 years old, she was well versed on when to tuck herself away into her little hideout. One of those times was when things got loud. Loud noises drew attention, and attention meant guards. She had to be ready to lay down quickly to be covered up if things got too bad here.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Aurora visibly flinches at the words, but her shock wears off quickly. “You know better than to open this door like that, Bellamy!” she hisses. “Do you know what will happen to me – to your sister – if she’s caught out in the open?” Aurora spits. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Octavia could feel her entire body starting to tremble. Of course he knew what would happen. They both knew what would happen. Their mom made them repeat it all the time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy ignores his mother and makes his way over to kneel down in front of his sister. He carefully pries her hands away from her ears one at a time and holds her hands in his as tears run down his cheeks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Octavia hardly ever sees her brother cry. It makes her bottom lip wobble.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You want to learn something new today, O?” Bellamy asks before he wipes the back of his sleeve across his face and sniffles.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Octavia perks up instantly and almost starts jumping in place. “<strong>Please</strong>!” she begs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Bellamy…” Octavia hears the warning tone in her mother’s voice, but she chooses to ignore it the way her brother had.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So, you know how you’re my sister because we have the same mom, right?” He doesn’t wait for her to respond. He has to get this out quickly. “Well, we don’t have the same dad,” Bellamy adds in a rush.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Octavia’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What’s a dad?” she asks innocently.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Aurora takes a step closer to the pair, another warning to her son slipping dangerously from her lips, “Bellamy!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Every kid has to have a mom and a dad to exist, O. The difference between us and all the other kids is that all the other kids get to know their dads, and you’ll never even be able to see the face of yours…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s ENOUGH!” Aurora screeches as she grabs Bellamy’s right arm with both of hers and rips him away from Octavia.</em>
</p><p><em>Octavia can only watch from where she stands frozen in place. Her mom and brother haven’t had a fight escalate this fast in a </em>long <em>time, and Octavia never knew what to do. She was torn between the only two parts her world knew. This was one of the only circumstances where she actually preferred to be covered and protected in her little hole in the floor.</em></p><p><em>“What exactly is </em>enough<em>, mom?” Bellamy shoots back. “Is enough when you realize your daughter won’t even get to meet another person in her lifetime, let alone fall in love? Is enough when your teenage son isn’t even getting a third of the nutrients his growing body needs due to having to share what little rations he does get?”</em></p><p>
  <em>Bellamy has to fight the urge to pace, so he takes a defensive stance and squares his shoulders as best he can while keeping his head up to show he’s finally taking a stand.</em>
</p><p><em>Aurora stares at her son with a look close to pure disgust. “It’s like you </em>want <em>me to die, Bellamy. Because you know that’s what will happen if…”</em></p><p><em>“I don’t want you to </em>die<em>, mom, I want </em>us<em>,” he gestures to Octavia and himself, “to be able to live! It’s not our fault that…”</em></p><p>
  <em>Bellamy’s interruption is cut off as Aurora’s hand collides with his left cheek. Hard.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hard enough that he’s registering the familiar, metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He can’t even drop his jaw in shock because he doesn’t want his little sister to be even more freaked out than she already is.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>At least one of them is looking out for the girl’s true best interest.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His mother moves to touch his cheek, her face the picture of guilt, but he backs away from her and turns towards a visibly shaken Octavia.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bellamy wordlessly guides the girl to lie down in her cubby hole and gives her the most reassuring smile he can muster before sliding the cover in place. He simply nods when she squeaks out a question about whether or not he’ll be back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’ll always be back. His sister, his responsibility. Even though he’s not the reason she’s here and their mother has ruined his life as much as she has Octavia’s. The Blake siblings are in this together. </em>
</p><p><em>His mother reaches for him again when he stands back up, but he shirks away from her and quietly slinks out the door. He runs straight into a guard who’d been hovering nearby with a shock baton at the ready. Bellamy recognizes the man as one of his mother’s favorite </em>trading <em>partners.</em></p><p>
  <em>The man shoves him away and waves his baton at Bellamy. The warning wasn’t even necessary as the teen needed to be anywhere that wasn’t the soul-sucking, hopeless fucking vortex that was Factory Station.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Everything feels like it’s spinning, and she hardly even registers Raven’s ramblings about the tech behind the discovery and how accurate it was. The mechanic had been trying to explain how this was possible, well, how the <em>generation </em>of the results was possible. Octavia had learned how the <em>other </em>part was possible when she was 10 years old, thanks to her brother’s outburst.</p><p>Raven was trying to explain just <em>how </em>this was possible, but what she didn’t realize was that Octavia wasn’t ready to accept this as fact – no matter how many statistics or computer graphics were flashed in front of her.</p><p>Bellamy’s words from all those years ago reverberate through her head. “<em>The difference between us and all the other kids is that all the other kids get to know their dads, and you’ll never even be able to see the face of yours</em>.”</p><p>She hadn’t known what he meant at the time. She didn’t realize how much he was hurting. She hadn’t realized how he felt until she truly learned what all she was missing out on just a couple of years before her arrest.</p><p>She could see that day in her mind’s eye. She could see her mother being hauled past her by a hoard of guards with Jaha leading the way. That was the last time she’d ever gotten to see her mother, and it was only in a brief passing as they screamed for one another. Octavia had her own guards holding her down and dragging her towards the Sky Box.</p><p>
  <em>…and you’ll never even be able to see the face of yours…</em>
</p><p>If only that had been true. If only her brother had been right. As it turned out, she’d seen the face of her father for years without ever realizing it.</p><p>She’d seen it for the first time the night she was arrested. He was the one leading her guards towards the Sky Box, after all.</p><p>Her group of guards had been led by none other than Councilman Marcus Kane.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Implications and Revelations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Octavia digests the news of her newfound lineage. Jackson has something for Clarke.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one was difficult to write. Not only because of my health issues, but because I have other things in mind for this story that I'm more excited/passionate about. I didn't want to rob you all of the reaction and fallout, though, and I did use it as a chance to introduce yet another element to this story.</p><p>What I can say is that the next update should come much quicker as I've been excited about the next chapter for a while now. I'm also beyond excited for what I have in store, although not everyone may be the biggest fan of the direction I'm taking in the beginning. My job as a writer is to make something relatable and well-developed enough that it hopefully becomes likable in the end.</p><p>With all that said, happy reading of this unedited chapter! I'll come back to modify some things later. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Octavia’s ears were ringing and her eyes couldn’t seem to fall into focus. She’s not sure she wanted them to. Her breathing quickened and the air in that room of the bunker suddenly felt toxic. It reminded her of how she'd felt when that bomb hit TonDC. Just like how she'd felt when Lincoln’s lifeless body hit the ground with a dull thud.</p><p>Time froze in both of those instances. Time was frozen again right in this moment. The chaos around her didn’t even register. Her fight instinct kicked in the other times, but the daze she had fallen into now just couldn’t be shaken.</p><p>
  <em>She was barely conscious, but she still managed to roll off her horse when she caught a glimpse of the familiar terrain between her slit eyelids. She staggered to her feet when she recognized the scene and the man several yards from her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She heard the exchange, she heard the cock of the gun, she heard the splash followed by the sight of crimson red spilling out into the murky puddle where Lincoln’s body had landed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She registered pain. A pain that rivaled what she felt hearing the screams of her mother as the guards pulled the older woman off to the air chamber while the teen was being dragged in the opposite direction. A pain that was worse than any arrow, bullet, fist, or slash of a knife she’d ever taken.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The next thing she registered was anger. Pure and unbridled. Something that went beyond any sentiment behind Jus drein jus daun. A blind rage that saw no intention of civility or mercy – only vengeance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The last thing she registered was the light squeezing of her arm as she was gently being tugged back. A touch not belonging to Lincoln. The tugging of her arm by Kane shook her from her tunneled vision, and her fight instinct kicked in like never before as she let herself be led away by the man.</em>
</p><p>The man who ended up being her father.</p><p>For the first time since she was a teenager, Octavia chose flight. She turned towards the door and ran for the bunker’s exit like her life depended on it. With the stinging in her eyes and the burning of her lungs, it was all she could do at that moment. She needed to escape so she could breathe. She needed to escape to maintain some sort of grip on what was left of her sanity.</p><p>
  <em>There’s a darkness in you, Octavia.</em>
</p><p>Her pace quickened.</p><p>
  <em>Justice and vengeance are not the same thing.</em>
</p><p>The first tear streaked from the corner of her eye and tracked straight towards her ear in her haste.</p><p>
  <em>There won’t be enough room for our people. </em>
</p><p>She swallows against the growing knot in her throat at the memory of his devastated face.</p><p>
  <em>You lost your way. We all have. And I’ve been quiet for too long. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your mother – your mother was floated for having a second child. I was party to that, and so much more. We have a chance to do something better here, and we’re throwing it away. Octavia, please, strength without mercy is nothing. It’s nothing. But you can end it. You can save us. It’s not too late.</em>
</p><p>The tears clouding her vision cause her to miscalculate a root protruding from the forest floor. The ground is as cold and unforgiving now as it was when she took her first real beating at the hands of that overzealous Grounder.</p><p>
  <em>Octavia, put the gun down. Come inside. They put Lincoln on his knees too. Pike stood like that…right where you’re standing…when they put a gun against his head. You do this – you do this, and you’re no better than he was.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She ripped herself from his embrace and he called out for her as she ran off.</em>
</p><p>She forced herself onto her knees but couldn’t bring herself to get back to her feet. Her breathing had grown alarmingly ragged.</p><p>
  <em>Am I a monster? Yes, I am. Just like both of you. The Cannibal Doctor and the Man She Loves, even after he floated her husband. The man who caused 300 of his own people to die on The Ark when the ground was survivable. You think you’re better than me, Kane?! That you’ve <strong>learned </strong>from your mistakes?! If it was up to you, Wonkru would’ve died of starvation in that bunker. You were too weak to do what had to be done. And then you ran. Became a traitor. Made a deal with our enemy, which you <strong>knew </strong>they would never keep.</em>
</p><p>The cold wetness of the soil was soaking through the knees of her pants, but that didn’t matter.</p><p><em>But you didn’t have to wage war. You didn’t have to burn down the farm. You did that for <strong>power</strong> – for <strong>vanity</strong></em>. <em>You were lost. You’re <strong>still </strong>lost.</em></p><p>She brought her shaking, mud-stained hands up and examined her palms. Her hands still felt the heaviness of his limp body as he crumpled to the floor.</p><p>Octavia could’ve sworn the dark mud beneath her now was tinted with the deep crimson blood that had spurted from Kane’s mouth like an erupting geyser.</p><p>She had stood frozen as Kane’s body stopped moving. Her eyes couldn’t leave his face. Her feet were glued to the floor as Abby rhythmically pounded on his chest.</p><p>
  <em>Yu gonplei ste odon.</em>
</p><p>She could still hear the venom in her own voice as she turned and walked away – feeling nothing but satisfaction as she stalked out of the room with Niylah and Abby still frantically working behind her.</p><p>Her hands fell to her sides as she let out a wail that rivaled her scream that day they thought they’d reached a dead-end on the beach in their trek to find Luna.</p><p>A wail so raw and animalistic that every bird fled from the surrounding trees as it pierced through the atmosphere and shattered the calm of the approaching night air.</p><p>She screamed until her throat was raw. Until her vocal cords must’ve been ripped to shreds. There was nothing left but tears. She hadn’t been sure if they were of sadness or anger, but she eventually came to the conclusion that they had to be both.</p><p>She hated him for what he’d done to her mother.</p><p>She hated him for locking her up.</p><p>She hated him for letting her be the monster in the bunker.</p><p>She hated him for always siding with Abby even when Abby was the voice of the serpent hiding in the shadows.</p><p>She hated him for betraying her in the valley.</p><p>But most of all, she hated him for not saving her.</p><p>For not stepping up. Not being there. Even if he didn’t know she was his, she was still just a child.</p><p>She drew in a shaky breath at her last thought. <em>How had he never known? How had he never even had a clue?</em></p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>The council sat around the table in their usual seats. There was a tense silence that had settled over the room as everyone sat stark still.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The girl was in the Sky Box. The mother had been floated. The boy was being detained in his family’s quarters.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The DNA swab that had been collected from the girl upon her arrest had went missing without a trace. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There were no fingerprints. The security cameras had been shut off for a period of ten minutes. There was no log of who’d been the last one to access the system. There had been an intentional override that bought the offenders just enough time to procure the sample from the lab before the engineers and technicians could get the system back online.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was obvious that multiple parties were involved in the cover-up. There were several people who were motivated to keep the girl’s paternal lineage under wraps. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Several people who, through their obvious desperation to eliminate that sample, were likely potential fathers. People who knew how not to get caught.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Luckily for them, the council had bigger fish to fry at the moment.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke Griffin was in solitary confinement to contain the news of their most dire issue.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There were rumblings of a possible uprising from Factory Station.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And right this second, the screen in the room showed the picture and statistics of one Bellamy Blake. The council had to decide what to do with the son of Aurora Blake who had been complicit in keeping his mother’s secret for so long. He was also now of the age where he could be floated for such a crime.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The boy was 6 when he was thrown into the situation. His mother gave him no other choice as he was entirely under the woman’s influence.” Ruben Figuera, known for being the quiet council member, was shockingly the first to break the silence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The boy knew our laws and obviously learned what he was doing was wrong at some point. That much is evident by the fact that he snuck the girl out for an event where he thought she’d go unnoticed.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Charles Ward was one of the more unforgiving council members. He and Kane got along quite well.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Abby chimed in with, “The boy wasn’t responsible for bringing the girl into the world. It’s enough that his mother was floated and his sister locked up after he allowed the girl’s existence to be exposed. Don’t you think the guilt he’s probably riddled with is enough? Hasn’t he already lost enough?” Abby pleaded with those around the table.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kane managed to stun the other members with his next words. “I agree with Abby,” he cleared his throat before proceeding. “The boy has been stripped of his place in the Guard. He’ll be relegated to whatever lowly job Factory Station has the highest demand for. He’ll forever live within those walls he once shared with his mother and sister. That’s a punishment worse than death. Besides, floating a member of Factory Station right now would only stoke the embers we’re trying to extinguish.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ruben had to look away to hide the emotion creeping across his features. His jaw had been clenched throughout the discussion, and his breathing was starting to become noticeably labored.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s one less set of lungs sucking our precious oxygen…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ruben’s fist slamming into the table abruptly halted whatever Charles was going to say next. His chair flew back with a screech as he jumped to his feet and nearly leapt across the table towards the other man.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Floating <strong>you </strong>would achieve the same result!” he yelled in the startled man’s direction.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“<strong>ENOUGH</strong>!” As intimidating as Ruben could be, Jaha’s booming voice and imposing figure rising from his chair at the head of the table had the Venezuelan man backing down with a hint of hesitation.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The boy was groomed by his mother at a tender age to follow along with her sordid plan. The one responsible has already been executed. The second child has been imprisoned. Janitorial services are desperately low on workers, so the boy will be permanently assigned to a role there.” Jaha announced in a tone that left no room for argument.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He continued when he was greeted with silence after surveying the other faces around the table. “As for the girl’s paternal lineage, resources are too scarce to risk what happened before happening again. Every cotton swab matters, and she already used one that was allotted for another family. We won’t pursue her parentage any further. We have other more <strong>pressing </strong>matters to attend to, in case any of you have forgotten.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kane couldn’t be sure, but he could’ve sworn Charles Ward’s shoulders sunk in relief. He felt his own slump in something else. Something he refused to believe was disappointment.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Octavia wasn’t sure how long she’d been on her knees on the forest’s floor when she heard rustling behind her, but she knew she hadn’t been alone nearly long enough.</p><p>She wanted to snap at the intruder to go away, but it was most likely Clarke, and Clarke didn’t deserve that. Especially not with everything she’s going through right now.</p><p>Before she could think of what else to do, there was a heavy grunt next to her as someone dropped unceremoniously in the spot beside her.</p><p>She recognized the grunt and had to bite her tongue to keep from barking out about how it was too cold and dark outside for them to be there.</p><p>“I need you to do me a favor.”</p><p><em>A promising start</em>, Octavia thought. She remained silent waiting for the person to continue.</p><p>“I know you probably don’t want to talk, and I don’t want you to, but I need for you to just listen. No matter what you hear.”</p><p>Octavia’s curiosity was piqued, but she held her silence. She knew her voice was lost anyway.</p><p>“I know who my biological father was.”</p><p>Octavia’s head whipped up at that statement. Her mouth opened as she started to croak out a demand about how that was possible.</p><p>Hope gently brought her index finger to her aunt’s lips the way the older woman had always done to her when she was a child. She needed the older woman to hear this.</p><p>“Raven let it slip about a week ago,” Hope explained.</p><p>Octavia rolled her eyes so hard that it hurt. It didn’t help that her entire face was swollen and eyes painfully dry from all of the crying.</p><p>“Hear me out, okay? She didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret. You know me. Once I heard the slip, I demanded to know more. We both know how relentless I can be,” Hope chuckled lightly.</p><p>“Anyway, I made her tell me everything she knew. She told me he was the one who bombed the very last survivable land on Earth. She told me Clarke killed him right in front of mom. She also told me he had been holding mom hostage and was planning to kill her the second I was born.”</p><p>Hope looked to the ground as she took a breath. Talking about her mom still felt impossible. She wasn’t sure it would ever not hurt.</p><p>“Raven said he was willing to kill anyone and everyone so long as I was safe. At first, I thought that meant he loved me. That he cared. But then both Raven and Clarke explained to me what a sociopath was, and that he wasn’t capable of love. I was just another possession. Something else for him to own and control.” Hope twisted her fingers and picked at her nails – something she always did when she was feeling anxious.</p><p>“I’m not telling you all of this for you to feel sorry for me or to upset you. Dev was my dad, and he always will be. But both my dad and my biological father had pasts that were less than heroic,” Hope lamented.</p><p>Octavia just looked to the dark forest ahead of her as she took in her niece’s words.</p><p>“The difference was that my dad, Dev, he was more than his shitty past. He was more than the bad things he’d done. He wasn’t always the greatest person, but he was capable of change. He <em>did </em>change. I got to witness it and reap the benefits.”</p><p>“I know you weren’t <em>his </em>biggest fan, which is probably an understatement, but you and my mom had been mortal enemies at one time, too, and look how that turned out?” Hope smirked at the shocked look on her aunt’s face.</p><p>“Like I said, I made Raven tell me everything,” Hope said with a sly smile.</p><p>Her voice took on a somber note once again. “Mom trusted him, you know? Not only that, but she <em>liked </em>him. She told me he was the first and only person she felt she could truly trust in well over one hundred years. Until you, of course. You and I both know that’s no easy feat.” Hope’s eyebrows wriggled knowingly.</p><p>Octavia only looked away again as tears pooled in eyes she thought had long since dried.</p><p>“She said he had the most wonderful plans and visions for peace. For a utopian society where everyone had a place and felt valued. He had hope, and he allowed her to have that too. She told me he accidentally named me.” Hope blushed at the thought.</p><p>Octavia bristled at that. Her <em>father</em> had played a bigger role in unborn Hope’s fate than he had his own daughter’s.</p><p>To say she was bitter about that was an understatement.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Kane sat next to Abby in the bunker’s empty council room with his head in his hands. His crying had ceased, but he still couldn’t bear to look up. Not after what he’d witnessed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not after what he’d done.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d tried to tell himself it was just savory gelatin. Nothing more. It was the only way he could keep from regurgitating whatever he swallowed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What happened in that mess hall would haunt him for the rest of his days. That taste would remain on his tongue and linger in the back of his throat like a permanent fixture. Each empty seat in the mess hall would now forever serve as a reminder of the true nature of their newest food source.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He still felt sick. He probably always would.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Abby simply sat there beside him. She was close enough for her presence to be known, but not close enough to make any physical contact. She knew he couldn’t handle that right now. She also felt too guilty to seek comfort she knew she didn’t deserve.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There was a time when I thought she could’ve been mine. Just a brief moment in between her discovery and the disappearance of that cotton swab containing her DNA,” Kane confessed to the floor before him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Abby’s face contorted in confusion as she turned her head towards him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It was just the one time. Aurora was – well, she seemed different. She never gave the illusion that she was enamored with power or chasing extra rations or something. She just seemed so…normal. Like she was genuinely interested in me and what I had to say.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kane scoffed as he continued. “Then Octavia was caught, and the math added up, but the odds didn’t once that widespread cover-up of her DNA swipe unsurfaced. There were several men involved in that, remember? Men who had all presumably slept with Aurora Blake around the same time. Probably a lot more than just the one time I was with her,” Kane finished bitterly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Abby was too stunned for words. Her head was spinning at the new revelation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I dropped all notion of the prospect of being her father after that. But tonight – after tonight – it’s really a relief to know that I wasn’t. Because if I had been her father, I’d be buried under the weight of just how badly I’ve failed her,” Kane whispered, his voice thick with emotion.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The silence fell over the pair again. One’s silence stemming from despair while the other was left reeling and plotting.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>“I know what you’re thinking,” Indra’s even voice caused Hope to jump with a start.</p><p>Octavia hadn’t even heard the woman approach. Normally she’d scold herself for being so careless and letting her guard down, but right now she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was too physically and emotionally exhausted.</p><p>“I told you I could handle this on my own!” Hope exclaimed petulantly as she crossed her arms and leveled a glare at the former Trikru warrior.</p><p>Indra ignored the younger woman’s pouting as she approached her former <em>Sekun </em>and crouched down in front of her.</p><p>“As a parent who’s made her fair share of mistakes with her own child, I can promise you that Kane was truly a changed man. If he had known, he would’ve stood by you,” Indra assures.</p><p>There’s a gleam in Octavia’s eye that could almost be interpreted as dangerous when she stares down the woman before her. The intense scratching in the back of her throat keeps her from trying to respond. She knows her weak whispers won’t do justice to what she has to say.</p><p>Indra holds Octavia’s gaze with a fierce one of her own. “All parents make mistakes, Octavia, especially those who don’t even realize they are a parent. I know what you may be thinking, but he didn’t know,” Indra finishes with a quiet firmness.</p><p>“How do you know?” Hope’s curiosity always got the best of her.</p><p>The older warrior’s eyes never leave Octavia’s as she replies. “Kane was one of the few Sky people I ever came to truly respect. He wasn’t perfect, and I don’t know exactly what he was like on The Ark, but I was around when he was in the bunker. I was there when he died. He died a hero, Octavia. He died for a good cause. He died doing the right thing, even though it meant going against Abby’s wishes.”</p><p>Octavia would’ve scoffed had she known it wouldn’t have damaged her throat even more. She had a hard time believing Kane had disobeyed the Great Abigail Griffin. He lived and breathed for her. It had sickened Octavia.</p><p>Indra’s eyes narrowed as she studied the other brunette’s expression. “I know you don’t believe me now, but Kane reprimanded Abby for what she did. He stuck to his conviction that stealing someone else’s body was wrong. He didn’t let the other man’s sacrifice go to waste, though. He floated his new body along with the formula Abby had made for The Primes. He truly did die a changed man. You, of all people, know how important that change can be for a person.”</p><p>Indra lifts her chin with purpose. “You learned that the day you became someone who wanted to set a better example for the next generation.” Her voice holds its usual authority, but there’s a soft undertone that takes the edge off of her words.</p><p>Her voice was growing husky with the onslaught of emotions. She was there for Marcus Kane’s final moments; she heard his last words. Every fiber of her being knew that <em>that </em>Kane and <em>this </em>Octavia were proof enough that human beings were capable of changing for the better. They were two people who were able to recapture who they truly were at their core despite years of life trying to beat the purity out of them.</p><p>“What you did on that battlefield – what <em>would </em>have been a battlefield – was nothing short of miraculous. The Kane that I knew would’ve wept with pride and adoration for you, Octavia, whether he’d known of your connection or not. One day, you’ll know that to be true in your heart as well.”</p><p>“You and mom always did tell me that forgiveness isn’t about what the other person deserves, Aunty O. One day we’ll teach Marcellus the same thing. It’ll be a lot easier though if you actually believe what you’re telling him,” Hope chimes in with an innocent bat of her eyelashes.</p><p>Hope’s attempt at returning to her old childhood tricks elicits a genuine, breathy laugh from Octavia. Hope laughs right along with her aunt before lifting herself to her feet and offering her hand to Octavia to do the same.</p><p>The younger girl takes a more serious approach as her aunt dusts herself off. “I know this may not mean much now, but the more you know about where you came from, the more your son will get to know about his roots, too.”</p><p>Hope was testing the waters here, but it was better than pulling the “would you want to die knowing Marcellus forever hated you and couldn’t forgive even for his own sake” card. That would <em>definitely </em>not go over well right now.</p><p>Octavia’s eyes linger on Hope’s, and Hope struggles to maintain the gaze. It was like her aunt was looking for something far deeper than the younger woman could fathom.</p><p>After Octavia’s surveillance of her was seemingly over, she nodded curtly towards the other two women and headed back in the direction of the bunker. She would’ve preferred to sleep out in the woods for the evening, but she had a son waiting and a Levitt worrying back in their underground home.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Abby watched Kane slink off to their bunk room with the promise that she wouldn’t be far behind. Once she heard the door click and was sure she was alone, the doctor made her way over to Octavia’s claimed seat at the council’s table. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She pulled the chair out from its place under the table and scanned the seat of the chair and the floor around it. Her brow furrowed in frustration before she dropped to her knees with a huff. Feeling around the back of the chair’s legs, Abby’s fingers finally grazed what she’d been hoping to find.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>With a single, calculated tug, she ripped part of the hair from where it had been wedged in the seam of the chair’s leg. It was a small piece of the strand, but it held the most important part – the root.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She carefully set the strand on the table next to several others she’d discreetly collected when she’d offered to fix Marcus’s half ponytail before he left the room. She’d convinced her boyfriend that he didn’t want to be caught looking so disheveled right now when his people needed to draw from his strength.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The girlfriend was acutely aware of her lover’s shedding patterns, and she was going to take full advantage of that. As a doctor, she was even more aware of the fact that one time still held fairly high odds if the timing was right, regardless of however many other partners there may have been at the time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She couldn’t pocket the strands, so she partially fisted her hand to secure them while remaining inconspicuous enough should she be spotted on her way to the lab. The lab she still held unlimited access to and that she knew would be empty for the evening.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jackson couldn’t bear to be anywhere near Medical right now after feeling as if he’d betrayed his oath earlier that evening. She also rightly assumed no one would dare report to Medical right now for fear they would be next on the menu if they showed any signs of illness or injury.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Abby managed to make it to the lab undetected. She used the sleeve of her sweater to open the door and quickly donned a pair of latex gloves before unlocking the metal cabinet that housed the chemicals.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She removed the bottle she was looking for, grabbed an eye dropper, a clean glass slide, and two clean glass coverslips. Once all of her materials were ready, she went back to the cabinet, crouched down, and jammed her hand back towards the far-right corner just underneath of the bottom shelf. She felt around for a few moments until her fingers collided with the small box she’d been searching for.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The box contained a drive she’d swiped from the office Jaha had claimed when Skaikru had seized the bunker. Displaying all of her usual cunning forethought, she’d grabbed the loose drive when Jaha was overtaken. Once the bunker was sealed for Praimfaya, she used the ensuing chaos as an opportunity to stow the drive away somewhere only she would find it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Returning to her workstation, Abby carefully removed the current drive from the lab’s computer and replaced it with her own. Being married to an engineer for so long and having been in the presence of Raven had more perks than she ever could’ve imagined. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>With all her usual care and precision, she cut both strands to size, placed a drop of the chemical on the glass, placed the strands side-by-side on the slide’s liquid center, and placed it under her microscope. She then connected the microscope to the computer’s monitor and was immediately greeted with an enhanced image of the strands. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She used the credentials she’d set up for herself the day she’d taken the drive to log in to the software program she needed. A program their regular drive didn’t possess. A program that would analyze the reaction of the hair roots and chemical almost immediately.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Once the analysis of both strands was done, she disposed of the strands, meticulously cleaned the glass, coverslips, eye dropper, and microscope, and returned everything to the spots she’d marked to make sure everything was exact. She removed her drive and restored it to its rightful hiding place taped under the locked cabinet’s lowest shelf before once again reinstalling the lab’s original drive.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Marcus Kane was the father of Octavia Blake, but neither one could know that. The fate of the human race depended on sustaining their new food source, and Kane couldn’t be allowed to exert that kind of influence over Octavia.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Abby also didn’t need the man she loved being thrown into the pit in an act of misguided vengeance in any personal vendetta held by Blodreina.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She knew nobody could ever find out this truth. She’d take it to her grave.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Before leaving the lab, Abby did something she hadn’t done since a year after hearing Clarke pounding at the bunker’s door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She grabbed some opioids from an open bottle, shoved them in her pocket, and scurried back to the room where Kane was waiting.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Octavia had spent the three weeks essentially locked in the gestation room with Marcellus and Levitt. All the other adults who frequented the room seemed to get the hint that the woman needed her space. Emori had tried to breech the subject a couple of times but was quickly shut down with every attempt.</p><p>No offense to Emori or anything, but when Octavia was finally ready to talk about the bombshell that had been dropped on her a few weeks ago, it wouldn’t be with the woman she still only kind of saw as Murphy’s girlfriend.</p><p>Luckily, Murphy put an end to the attempts after the second or third try.</p><p>Levitt had been one of two constant comforts to her over the last twenty days – the other being the baby boy floating not even a foot and a half away from where she stood. She knew what a comfort a baby could be, but she never imagined an unborn child having this profound of an affect on her.</p><p>She guessed everything truly was different when the child was actually your own.</p><p>Levitt stood behind her with a light, reaffirming grip on her shoulder. He’d be hanging back with Hope, Jordan, Murphy, Echo, Niylah, Indra, Gaia, and the babies for the evening while Octavia ventured out of the bunker for the first time since the news broke.</p><p>Not only would she be leaving the bunker, but she’d be spending concentrated time with her friends again – the friends who’d known Kane the best. The ones who knew him long before she ever had the chance to.</p><p>She leaned back into Levitt’s embrace and let him give her one last squeeze of comfort as she shut her eyes and just relished in the feeling of being this close to him.</p><p>The intentional clearing of a throat shattered the moment of peace they’d created as Emori approached to tell Octavia it was time to head to the beach. Their friends were all there waiting for this long-anticipated partial family dinner.</p><p>Octavia wasn’t sure why Emori had insisted on going seeing as she hadn’t known Kane on The Ark and had limited interactions with him on the ground. As a matter of fact, Octavia couldn’t actually remember a time where they interacted at all. But Emori wanted to go, and Octavia didn’t see the need to fight her on it.</p><p>Murphy saluted her as they passed him. He’d be staying behind with the babies tonight as he didn’t feel he had anything to add at this time. He was also still trying to make up for his week-long absence and knew anything he had to say about Kane could be said to Octavia at another time in private.</p><p>Octavia gave him a nod of acknowledgment and shot one last meaningful glance back at Levitt before following Emori out of the room and to the exit.</p><p>The first thing she noticed when she got to the clearing of the beach was the easy chatter that the group had fallen into. It all looked so mundane and felt so…<em>normal</em>. She’d missed this more than she realized.</p><p>Jackson and Miller were working in tandem to finish plating the food while Raven sat farther away from the campfire next to Clarke.</p><p>
  <em>Clarke.</em>
</p><p>Octavia felt a pang of guilt seeing her friend. She hadn’t seen or checked in with her since she’d taken off after <em>the Kane incident</em>, as Niylah had deemed it. Of course the Blake girl would eavesdrop on Jackson’s updates about Clarke to Murphy, but that had been it.</p><p>The brunette knew that the blonde wasn’t angry, and if anyone understood how Octavia felt, it was Clarke. But that still didn’t do much to squash the regret that was now hitting her at not having reached out to Clarke knowing that her friend had suffered a scare not that long ago.</p><p>“Octavia!”</p><p>She was shaken from her thoughts as a voice rang out to her down the beach. The unmistakable, and somehow demanding, voice of Raven Reyes.</p><p>Octavia felt herself smirk at the sound of her name, and suddenly she was taking off down the beach and crashing into Raven’s awaiting arms as Clarke smiled fondly with warmth sparkling in her blue eyes from her cushioned “throne” the mechanic had fashioned.</p><p>Right in this moment, Octavia couldn’t remember why she was so nervous to face these people. She didn’t know why she’d spent weeks avoiding them.</p><p>Once Raven released her, Octavia looked to Clarke with a questioning gaze. Clarke’s only response was to spread her arms and giggle as Octavia dove into them. The brunette pulled back only after the mechanic half-jokingly remarked that she needed to let Clarke up for air.</p><p>Octavia reluctantly pulled back and met Clarke’s dancing eyes before her own eyes were drawn to the new, rounded curve of Clarke’s lower abdomen. She hadn’t seen the blonde in three weeks, which would put her somewhere around nine weeks along now, and she was finally starting to show.</p><p>Clarke followed Octavia’s eyes down to her midsection and cradled her slight, but now noticeable, bump. It had become a reflex lately. Her hand just instinctively found its way to her bump out of habit at this point. Clarke’s chest still bloomed with warmth each and every time.</p><p>Octavia let out a stunned laugh at the sight. All previous feelings of guilt were replaced with pure amazement and joy for her friend. Clarke met Octavia’s laugh with a soft chuckle of her own. “Madi’s definitely not in any danger of starving, thanks to these guys,” Clarke gestures to Raven and the men behind her in amusement.</p><p>“Speaking of,” Jackson interrupts, “Dinner is ready, ladies,” he finishes in a sing-songy voice that Octavia still isn’t used to after six years of seeing the man so defeated. She likes this new side of him.</p><p>Miller greets her with a smirk as he hands her a plate, and she shoots an appreciative grin right back at him. She never thought she’d have this easy rapport with the man again.</p><p>She had a lot more to be grateful for than just the two people she’d spent the last three weeks focusing on. She realizes that now as they all fall into easy conversation containing pregnancy updates and funny mishaps Octavia had missed out on over the last few weeks.</p><p>It wasn’t until dinner was over and they’d all long since gathered around the bonfire (at a safe distance for Clarke, of course) that the lingering elephant in the room had finally been addressed.</p><p>Jackson had been studying Octavia as she laughed along with Clarke and Raven. Before he could even think, he blurted out, “You have her eyes.”</p><p>The laughter died instantly as all eyes shot towards him. “Excuse me?” Octavia questioned, not unkindly.</p><p>Jackson cleared his throat once, twice, three times. “Vera had green eyes just like yours,” Jackson admitted quietly.</p><p>Octavia couldn’t even begin to hide her confusion with shock. “Who’s Vera?”</p><p>“Vera Kane,” Clarke supplied. “She was Kane’s mother,” she tacked on gently.</p><p>Suddenly the crackling of the fire and the chirping of the crickets seemed deafening.</p><p>“She would’ve loved you, Octavia. She loved everyone, but she really would’ve loved you,” Miller added. “She was truly a special lady.”</p><p>He kept his gaze on her as Octavia glanced around the fire at the three nodding heads around her. They all knew Vera Kane and they all loved her.</p><p>Octavia hadn’t even thought of the other implications that would come along with Kane having been her father.</p><p>Like how he had parents too.</p><p>She had grandparents. She had a <em>grandmother</em>. A grandmother everyone knew and loved except for her. A grandmother who passed her eye color down to Octavia and never even knew it.</p><p>The searing pain in her chest was starting to return as Raven was the next to speak.</p><p>“It was impossible not to love Vera. She was the kindest woman on The Ark, and it wasn’t even close. Even if you didn’t believe in exactly what she preached, you had faith and hope because she had faith and hope. You had faith in <em>her</em>, and her hope for a brighter future and faith that there was something more in store for us was just – well, it was infectious.”</p><p>Raven smiled sadly as she remembered walking by Vera’s gatherings on more than one occasion.</p><p>Before Octavia could stand and effectively put an end to the evening, Clarke grabbed her arm and said, “She believed we’d all meet again, Octavia. We should choose to believe that she’s right,” Clarke finished softly.</p><p>Octavia nodded numbly with a placating grin on her face before excusing herself to retire for the evening with Emori following after her.</p><p>The remaining four sat silently for a moment before Jackson announced it was getting a little chilly out which elicited an eyeroll from Clarke as she knew that was code for her to head back to the more "official" form of bedrest.</p><p>Raven heaved herself to her feet with an exaggerated groan before offering her hand to Clarke. Miller stayed behind to put the fire out while Jackson fell in step with the two girls.</p><p>“Raven, can I have a moment with Clarke?”</p><p>Raven eyed Jackson’s request with suspicion but told Clarke she’d see her back in their room once Jackson nodded his confirmation that he’d escort the blonde back.</p><p>Once Raven was out of earshot, Clarke turned to the man and did her best to mask her growing panic. “What is it, Jackson?” she asked, trying to hide the urgency in her voice.</p><p>“Jordan brought something back with him from his trip to Sanctum a few weeks ago. I had him hold off on giving it to you until your condition was more stable…” he paused nervously as he looked to the ground to avoid her gaze.</p><p>“Brought back what, Jackson?” Clarke demanded. She was running low on patience these days.</p><p>Jackson reached into the flap of his sack and produced a large, heavy, ancient-looking book with <strong><em>Death to Primes</em></strong> carved into the front cover.</p><p>“There’s something in here that you need to see.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Death To Primes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clarke discovers Cillian's story and learns who he truly was.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>**MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING**</p><p>Graphic violence, graphic violence regarding a child, multiple cases of infant loss.</p><p>Please proceed with caution.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clarke had Jackson escort her to Medical instead of her room. The blonde had a strong feeling she’d be needing privacy as she reviewed whatever was behind this thick, hardened cover. She asked Jackson to tell Raven where she’d be spending the night, and Jackson purposely placed her emergency button within reach before taking his leave.</p><p>Clarke immediately took note of how the first section of the last story contained pages that were yellowed and crinkled the most with age. The left edges of each piece of paper were jagged – like they’d been torn from another book. From someone’s personal, private journal they’d kept close through the years.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They had known each other since they were 6 years old. The first thing he’d noticed about her had been her long, mahogany-colored hair as it hit him in the face whenever she’d get excited over knowing the answer to their teacher’s questions. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d recently started learning to read, and he knew where the ‘Jo’ had come from on her nametag. His mom said lots of people named their children in honor of The Primes. His own middle name had been taken from a member of one of Sanctum’s founding families.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d been seated next to him in their classroom’s boy-girl-boy-girl seating configuration. Her eyes were the type of speckled brown that reminded him of the tiny bubbles that would form around the rim of a cup of tea after it was poured. He hadn’t seen eyes quite like it in all his 6 years, and he decided then that everything about her fascinated him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They’d chase one another around the playground until they reached the age where the boys played soccer while the girls sat off to the side and giggled giddily as they whispered to one another behind cupped hands. Whenever he’d glance in their direction, his eyes always immediately found hers.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When they were both 16, he’d worked up the courage to ask her if she’d like to attend the next Naming Day ceremony with him – as his date. She’d thrown her arms around his neck and hung on as she squealed about how she thought he’d never ask. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They’d both been each other’s first date, and when they were 21, they declared they’d both be each other’s last. They were married that spring, right after he’d finished the medical program. The Workman’s had been gracious enough to allow them to hold a reception at their tavern free of charge. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>All of Sanctum had come to celebrate not only the union of Sarah-Jo Mariah Ellerson and Cillian Mason Marks, but also the first successful passing by a student of Sanctum’s rigorous medical program in almost a decade. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Russell Lightbourne had allowed the ceremony itself to be held on the castle’s terrace landing for all of Sanctum to see. He’d personally conducted the ceremony – a task usually relegated to Faye or Kaylee Lee – as the leader of The Primes announced that Sarah-Jo and Cillian’s marriage marked a rare union between two carriers of the blood. He also introduced Cillian as Sanctum’s newest physician.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It had been the greatest day of Cillian’s life. Despite all of the attention and his new career venture, what mattered most to him was that he was standing across from the girl he’d been in love with since he was 6 years old. The speckled brown eyes he knew so well were now the eyes of his wife – the love of his life. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Standing there looking at her made Russell and the rest of Sanctum fade away until it felt like it was just the two of them in their own little cocoon.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The couple wasted no time in trying for their first child, and they were expecting before spring even turned to fall. He had been ecstatic, and she was deliriously happy. They’d been talking about having a child since they were 18, and life felt like it couldn’t have panned out more perfectly for them had it been planned by The Primes themselves. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d pictured her mahogany hair and caramel skin tone on a baby who had his hazel eyes and a smile that held deep creases down either cheek.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The first seven weeks had flown by, each exam indicating everything was okay. The eighth week arrived and still brought no heartbeat with it. Sarah-Jo had been nearly inconsolable despite her husband reassuring her that there wasn’t yet cause for alarm. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then came the disheartening static fetal measurements during week ten.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And finally, the sobering silence of week twelve and a half was definitive evidence that the child who’d once seemed destined to complete their family would never develop lungs to take its first breath or eyes to open for the first time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sarah-Jo had become numb – a stark contrast from her immense grief only weeks prior. It had seemed she’d somehow constructed a mental wall in anticipation of this moment. Her only request was that Cillian be the one to remove the fetus; she didn’t want anyone else performing the procedure. Especially since they’d only use the unformed body for research and their own personal gain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ripping his dead child out of his wife was like ripping his own heart from his chest while it was still beating. But he wouldn’t deny her of her only request. He couldn’t. He loved her too much, and he was willing to do whatever she asked of him – even if it broke him in the process.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She stared at the ceiling the entire time. Never shed a single tear. He asked her if she wanted to see him – their little boy – but she turned her head and asked if she could rest now that the procedure was over. He didn’t respond as he left her in the room to go make arrangements to give their son a proper burial.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His impossibly small headstone simply read “<strong>Mason Sera Marks – Forever What Could’ve Been</strong>.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sarah-Jo had changed after the loss of Mason. She didn’t mourn the way others expected, and the town had begun to whisper not only about her reaction to the loss, but what may have caused it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian, being both a physician and protective husband, began writing out causes and reasons for miscarriages from a medical perspective. He made sure to display them in the town’s nursery, infirmary, and any other establishments that would allow it. He wouldn’t sit back and watch his wife being blamed or targeted somehow for a misfortune that was no fault of her own.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But Sarah-Jo hadn’t seemed to notice the stray looks or the muffled whispers. The only thing she was focused on was trying for another baby. She’d wanted to try again within weeks following the loss, even after Cillian told her they should wait at least a few months for her own safety.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It had been exactly one year later when Sarah-Jo enthusiastically announced that her menstrual cycle was late. Seven weeks later, Cillian found himself burying another little baby boy alone. Kyler Randall Marks had the same saying on his headstone as his older brother did.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The pattern continued for the next 4 years as the headstones continued to pile up – all bearing the same inscription behind different names for each little boy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>6 years, 6 miscarriages. The last had been the worst. She’d been 23 weeks along – the farthest she’d carried up until that point – when suddenly the pain came and couldn’t be stopped. Matthew Elias Marks was born 17 weeks prematurely, and despite his father’s skill and determination, the little boy just wasn’t developed enough to survive even with help from their most advanced machines.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sarah-Jo had become a shell of her former self, and Cillian couldn’t even hear the soil being tilled outside without breaking down over the memories of all the tiny graves he’d had to dig.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He begged his wife to stop. He told her that having each other was more than enough. That they didn’t need a child to complete them and they were under no obligation to provide a royal-blooded baby or another carrier of the blood for The Primes. He told her his role as Sanctum’s Lead Physician was more than enough of a contribution to their little society. He pleaded with her about how her very life could be at risk if they continued on like this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her only response to him had been that her life would be even more at risk if they didn’t succeed in having a child. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Despite trying to hide it, her attitude infuriated him, and, for the first time since they’d started dating all those years ago, he separated himself from her. He moved into a room above the tavern on what had been their 7<sup>th</sup> wedding anniversary.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They avoided one another for weeks. He practically lived in the infirmary and the medical library. She threw herself head-first into forming new lesson plans and activities for her students. One thing that hadn’t changed about her was her passion for teaching. He’d been hoping her students could help fill that aching void, but he also knew that it just wasn’t the same.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>About 5 months into their separation, her father passed away. Of course, Cillian attended the service for his late father-in-law; the man had been the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Before either one knew it, Sarah-Jo and Cillian wound up at the tavern bar together sharing drinks and stories about their departed loved one. They laughed like they hadn’t in years. One thing led to another, and suddenly they both found themselves naked in his room and desperate for the other’s touch. For the first time in forever, they made love out of passion instead of purpose.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To Sarah-Jo’s surprise and Cillian’s horror, she was once again late for her menstrual cycle several weeks after their night together.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian, despite his reservations and sheer terror at the prospect of going through that all-too-familiar heartbreak again, moved back into their home to be with his wife during the pregnancy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She swore she felt “different” this time around. She was convinced that this baby would be “lucky number seven.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian remembered her swearing the same sentiment during pregnancy number three with the notion of “third time’s a charm.” Needless to say, he wasn’t going to hold his breath, but he was still going to do everything in his power to try and ensure this baby lived – just like he had with all the rest.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The weight of his own failures weighed heavily on his mind with each passing week, and the hope that dared to creep into his heart was always crushed by the agonizing memories from years past. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They heard the heartbeat around week 7. He’d secretly allowed himself to hope for a little girl this time. That would make this pregnancy feel truly different to him. It made him more optimistic, in a way. He’d even briefly allowed himself to picture a little girl with the same mahogany hair, tanned skin, and smile that held those deep creases in either cheek from all those years ago when he’d learned of his wife’s first pregnancy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Week 12 came and there was still a heartbeat along with fetal movement that could actually be felt. That little girl’s features became clearer and clearer in his mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Week 14 revealed what he irrationally feared would be a setback. The baby was another boy. Their seventh boy. At this point, he was convinced he could make nothing <strong>but </strong>boys.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Week 20 brought even more hope with it as fetal measurements and vitals were all flawless. He could tell that Sarah-Jo’s hopes were well beyond high at this point. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Week 25 saw a visit from Josephine Prime. She said 20 weeks was the standard time for testing whether or not an unborn child possessed or was a carrier of the royal blood. She’d allowed them some leeway during the last pregnancy due to the previous miscarriages but demanded that this baby be tested before the week’s end. That it had been delayed long enough, and special treatment couldn’t continue to be afforded to the couple due to Cillian’s position.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>However, Josephine was allowing Cillian to conduct the test himself. After all, he was usually the one to run the test on every other expectant mother in Sanctum. He’d never once lied about or tried to conceal a Null child – even though he knew parents only had two choices after their child was discovered to be a Null: Oblation or abortion. There were no alternatives. It went against his every instinct as a doctor, but his duty to and fear of The Primes superseded those instincts. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Luckily, he had been able to deliver good news just about a week ago – rare news. There was going to be a child born with the blood. The first once in about 14 years. Another little girl, just like the last one born all those years before. Hopefully he’d get to experience what those expectant parents were feeling for himself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A couple of days later, he had his wife back in his office at the pediatric ward to run the test. She immediately asked him about the results when she noticed his face pale as he scanned the paper in his hands. The response she got was watching him throw the paper into the fireplace, wipe her record clean from the computer’s program, and begin inputting information of his own making into the system.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not once did she question her husband’s actions. She simply curled a protective arm around her distended abdomen and whispered to her son that everything was going to be okay as he continued kicking away in her womb. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A week after that, the couple was able to celebrate the milestone of their baby reacting to sound via movement for the first time ever. Cillian kept his head and hand in constant contact with her belly all night following that discovery as tears of joy and awe streaked down both of their cheeks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sarah-Jo went into labor at 37 weeks, which was significantly further along than she had been with their last son. She’d been scared, but Armin Jo Marks came screaming into the world 27 hours after her water broke. Armin had been her idea, as she’d read it meant “whole,” and Sarah-Jo knew that this baby would finally make her feel whole again. He’d make their family complete.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jo was Cillian’s idea as a way to honor the boy’s mother – the woman who’d never stopped fighting for his existence and arrival into the world. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The baby boy’s cries had been the greatest thing either parent had ever heard. He was a wriggly pink bundle with ten fingers and ten toes peaking out from the blanket the midwife had provided. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian had been wrong about nothing being able to beat his wedding day. The arrival of his living, breathing, healthy child after so many years of loss was an unparalleled kind of joy. One his heart hadn’t even known was possible. He tugged his son closer to his bare chest in his quest to deliver the writhing baby into his mother’s overly eager arms.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her cries rivaled their son’s as she positioned him onto her chest for the very first time. The sides of her eyes crinkled in a way he’d forgotten they could as she smiled down at the boy through her tears. It was the toothy, blinding kind of grin he remembered seeing when he’d asked her to go on that first date. He swore he could see just about every tooth her gums held in that wide, wild smile.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The sight of a baby – <strong>their </strong>baby – in her arms after all these years felt like it lit up his entire world. Every ounce of him felt reinvigorated – like he had a new purpose, and his life suddenly revolved around the two people on the soiled mattress he’d perched himself on. His own happiness and worth felt like it depended entirely on their safety and happiness. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d wondered if his own father had felt this way before he’d passed when Cillian was only a toddler. His mother had fallen back on her faith in The Primes to get her through the loss of her husband, so she raised her son to be strictly loyal to Sanctum’s chosen gods. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A loyalty he’d already broken in the name of his family when he changed his son’s genetic test results. Something he now knew he’d do a thousand times over again if it meant protecting his child. He’d do that and so much more, even if it meant dishonoring his mother’s memory and her loyalty to The Primes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He had been so caught up memorizing every detail of his son’s face that he hadn’t even realized the midwife’s absence until she returned, announcing the impending arrival of The Primes with her re-emergence in the Labor &amp; Delivery room. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The shock on his face must have been evident because the midwife’s own face fell. “It’s customary for The Primes to grace the presence of the family and bestow a gift upon the newest host of the royal blood on the day of the child’s birth,” she reminded him. Her own confusion bleeding through her tone at the doctor’s odd reaction.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian let out what could only be described as a strangled cry as he leapt from the bed just in time for the door to open and the guard to announce the arrival of the Lightbournes themselves.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His bare chest was heaving as he frantically took in the trio with wild eyes. He couldn’t even gauge their reaction to his disheveled appearance as the only thing his mind could register was the desperate grip his wife had on his hand as she cradled their newborn in her other arm. She was using her long hair as a curtain to shield the baby’s face from their newest guests.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Something snapped in the doctor as he propelled forward and placed himself between the bed where his family lay and where the Lightbournes stood. He knew his stance was defensive, and that Josephine had hissed something about him looking like nothing more than an animal in his present state. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The next thing he knew, his arms were restrained on either side courtesy of an order from Simone to her guards. His wife was screaming as Russell held her down while Simone all but ripped the baby from his mother’s arms. The baby’s screams of protest had him feeling more hopeless by the second.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He struggled against the guards as he watched Russell inject Sarah-Jo with a familiar orange tranquilizer pen. It was one of the many tools only The Primes had access to. Cillian didn’t need to be injected. Not even the most animalistic, protective instinct of a father could overcome the four guards holding him down as Josephine approached the baby in her mother’s arms with a small lancet in her grasp.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All Cillian could do was beg for them to stop. For them to leave the baby alone and hand the boy over to him. He dropped to his knees the second the lancet pierced the bottom of his son’s tiny foot.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was completely powerless as he watched in anguish while the bright red drop of blood quickly streaked down the baby’s heel as he wailed even louder in Simone’s arms.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Russell looked confused, Simone stunned, and Josephine was utterly disgusted. The latter of the three whipped her sharp gaze towards the guards restraining Cillian – completely disregarding the man choking on his own saliva in his weakening pleas to spare his child. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Our <strong>physician </strong>here is <strong>not </strong>to leave this room under any circumstances, do you understand?” Josephine commanded in that voice that managed to cut right through a person’s soul.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The guards nodded quickly as they tightened their hold on the distraught man and the Lightbournes left the room…taking Cillian’s son, his very heart and soul, with them. They hadn’t even bothered to learn the child’s name or allowed his mother to feed him for the first time before taking him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Lightbournes had taken baby Armin to their lab to perform their own tests to see if the child was even a carrier of the blood. The Primes were furious when their tests revealed the child was a Null, and Sarah-Jo’s tests has been altered by Sanctum’s Lead Physician himself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Instead of marking the child as a carrier in his report to The Primes, he had denoted the child as being a host of the royal blood. Surely the man had made a mistake in his attempt at trying to deceive his leaders, and Josephine would personally see to it that he paid dearly for his deception.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d wanted to put him on the pyre, but, to her annoyance, the others were too weak to sentence their best physician to death. They’d instead decided he’d immediately be placed into Adjustment Protocol while everything else was being handled. He was moved to another room and chained to the floor; the doors left open so he could hear everything from a distance as the most loyal of The Faithful mixed his own blood with measured amounts of the Red Sun Toxin.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Simone had the guards bang on doors to rustle the citizens from their beds. Russell Lightbourne took his spot on the castle’s terrace to announce the great deception. He called all of Sanctum to gather and follow as Josephine lead them all out into the fields towards the shield. A guard carried the still-wailing newborn through the viciously cold night air with the child wearing nothing but the thin blanket used to catch him upon his arrival into this cruel world.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What they hadn’t realized was that one unexpected citizen had managed to follow them to the shield under the guise of night as she’d staggered well behind the marching crowd. She slowly crept along the shadows as Josephine held the screaming infant over her head for all to see.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Let this be a lesson that <strong>nothing </strong>can be hidden from us! That we see <strong>all</strong>!” Her voice rang out into the night. “Let this be a lesson that the bloodline <strong>can </strong>and <strong>must </strong>be protected for our continued peaceful existence! Our very survival as the last of the human race <strong>depends </strong>on the act that will take place here tonight. For the first and only time, you <strong>will </strong>bear witness to Oblation, and you will see why it must be done for the greater good!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Josephine held the baby under his armpits and as far away from her own body as her arms would allow while she strode through the shield with all the pompous regality she’d accumulated over the last two centuries. The newborn in her hands shook violently from the constant jolts of electricity assaulting his tiny body. The smell of his burning flesh offended her olfactory senses to the point where she simply tossed his charred body into the woods instead of carrying him any further to the tree line.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A deafening scream pierced her eardrum just as she went to wipe the disgusting black soot from her hands. She looked up to see the child’s mother, who didn’t rank high enough in their society for Josephine to bother remembering her name, staggering towards where she stood in the shield’s vicinity. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The older woman held her hand up – still blackened with the ashes from the Null abomination – when the guards lurched forward to intercept the woman. At her gesture, they backed off just in time to see a bolt of electricity course through the younger woman’s body, electrocuting her on the spot. Her body didn’t char the way her son’s had, but the ensuing blisters, boils, and gurgles of agony had everyone averting their eyes. Everyone but Josephine Prime.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Josephine strode towards the dying woman with even more arrogance in her step than usual. She knelt before Sarah-Jo – her gleeful eyes trained on the foolish mother as she addressed the rest of the crowd.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do not forget what has transpired here tonight. Do not forget who your <strong>true </strong>saviors are. Who your true and <strong>only </strong>gods are! It is only those who possess the royal blood and are at one with The Primes who can perform such acts like I have demonstrated here tonight. <strong>We </strong>are the only thing standing between your safety and the horrors that lie just outside of this shield!” Josephine bellowed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The crowd remained in stunned silence – too afraid to even move, let alone speak. Some of their eyes dared to roam over towards the now-deceased woman they’d once called a friend. In an act of pure self-preservation and utter fear, each member of the crowd knelt before those they saw as their gods. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Josephine smiled smugly at the show of submission, and there was a devilish glint in her eye as she took in the horror splayed across the faces of the few others who dared consider themselves to be on her level. She strolled past her “family” with all the nonchalance in the world, and not one citizen dared to rise until the rest of The Primes made their way towards the front and headed back to the quad.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian had heard nothing but screaming in his delirious state. His own wrists mangled, bloodied messes from constantly fighting against his restraints. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His family was gone. His very reason for existing was gone. He was seeing visions of things he didn’t understand, but none of the visions showed him the only thing he wanted to see: the welcomed release of death to be with his wife and son.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian had been in Adjustment Protocol for 2 weeks – the longest anyone had ever been subjected to the program before. Life for everyone else had just carried on as usual while his world stood still. The arrival and celebration of the baby girl carrying the blood came and went, and that event had only fueled his will to fight. His will to achieve death. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When he realized death wasn’t coming for him and resistance was futile, he concocted another plan. He’d go along with their delusions. He’d act the part of the “cured” man. When he was released, he’d take off to the shield during the dead of night to finally join his family.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>One of his Adjustors had informed him that his wife’s body was left just outside of the shield as a lesson. As a warning to what happens to those who disobey The Primes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Those sons of bitches left her there to rot out of spite. His blood boiled, but he kept his cool just enough to be released as a “healed believer.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His plan had worked almost perfectly. He was almost within the shield’s shock radius when he saw a man he didn’t recognize dragging the bloated, decaying body of the woman who’d once been his wife towards the tree line of the woods.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Before Cillian could act, the man quickly reminded him not to raise his voice. He told him his name was Xavier, and he was here to give the woman and her child a proper burial. That they’d deserved at least that much since he and his friends couldn’t manage to save them sooner.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian watched, his mouth slightly agape, as the man carried Sarah-Jo’s body further towards the trees without batting an eye as the shield’s lethal levels of radiation should’ve been wreaking their havoc on the younger gentleman’s body.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It shouldn’t be possible. Only those who are one with The Primes should have that ability. This man – this <strong>Xavier </strong>– was certainly no Prime.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Before he could question the man further, his eyes caught sight of what looked to be a tiny lump of charcoal that the man was laying Sarah-Jo next to.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A small lump of charcoal fossilized into the shape of an infant.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>No.</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>His breath hitched as the tears gathered in his eyes. He reached a hand out only for it to be met with a painful shock from the shield’s radiation levels. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He heard the man utter a few words he couldn’t make out, and for the second time in two weeks, Cillian could only watch helplessly as his family was once again ripped from him. This time being swallowed by the large, twisting root of a tree.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He dropped to his knees, just like that fateful night, and the tears came in earnest. They came and came until he was retching on the ground before him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Xavier took in the sad state of the other man and sighed as he crossed the invisible border into Sanctum’s territory.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He took a seat next to the horrified man, told him the words he’d whispered to the departed individuals, and explained to the overwhelmed physician that there was more to this moon than just what was inside the parameters of this shield.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That night, Cillian learned of the Children of Gabriel. He willingly pledged himself to their cause. He declared that it would be his new reason for living – to avenge his family by helping dismantle The Primes from the inside out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Xavier warned Cillian that it could be dangerous…that he was their only informant inside of the shield. The doctor simply stared at the other man with hard eyes, jaw set, and his chin held high. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Xavier told him to write his story – his why – out onto paper. That he’d meet him here again in two days’ time in the middle of the night when the coast was clear. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian showed up two nights later with a stack of papers along with images firmly in his grasp. Once Xavier emerged from the shadows, he crossed the border, made a small cut into the doctor’s hand, and then dipped a writing utensil into the man’s own blood as Cillian signed the bottom of another page. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d pledged his loyalty in blood to the Children of Gabriel. He felt a different type of reinvigoration this time. The type he imaged someone felt when their sole purpose in life was vengeance.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Clarke desperately tried to regain control over her breathing as she wiped at her face with a cloth for what had to be the hundredth time since she’d started reading Cillian’s portion of the book. Her nose and cheeks were practically rubbed raw from the horrific details of the fate of his wife and son alone.</p><p>Not to mention all the sons that had come before their last.</p><p>After reading about the first loss, Clarke had to stop. Her mind was starting to race just as quickly as her heart must have been. She grabbed the portable fetal doppler and carefully scanned her swollen lower abdomen until the soothing rush of her own daughter’s heartbeat drowned out the sounds of her constant sniffling.</p><p>She didn’t bother to remove the doppler from her abdomen before she continued reading. This time she only stopped to readjust the wand to get the best read on Madi’s ever-steady heartbeat.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Re-assimilating to the society he’d once respected had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. People, former friends, would smile and wave at him as if that day had never happened. As if they hadn’t heard his screams of agony as they stood by and watched his wife and son being murdered at the hands of a sociopath. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their smiles were the same, but their eyes gave them away. Their eyes held a certain quality to them he hadn’t remembered seeing before. Something he eventually realized was pity. Some even held guilt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He went through the motions of day-to-day life. He accepted the small new apartment prepared for him. There was no need for a single man to have an entire home to himself. His possessions had been moved into the room during his time “away,” so he didn’t even have the chance to decide what to take with him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The only physical reminders he had left of his family’s existence were the drawings produced from his own memory. He sketched out every last detail of his wife's and son’s faces during the time he wasn’t aimlessly bandaging the town’s wounds in the infirmary. Luckily, there were no babies due to be born. Going back to Labor &amp; Delivery would be too much for even him to bear at this point.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He carried his medical bag around town day after day, always returning in the evening to document his memories along with any intel he'd collected. It didn’t take long for the single women of the town to start expressing their “sympathies” and offering their “company” to the town’s most eligible bachelor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d smile his usual polite smile and say that healing was his calling and his duty to The Primes was his first and only priority.</em>
</p><p><em>The words tasted like bile every time he said them, but the town’s leaders ate it all up and accepted him back into the fold rather quickly. Their mentality was “no harm, no foul.” Let bygones be bygones and all of that. Cillian had admitted fault for everything during the protocol, and The Primes were </em>gracious <em>enough to forgive him.</em></p><p>
  <em>Eventually the days turned to years with much of the same. Healing, turning down more brainwashed bachelorettes with the same polite smile, secret meetings near the shield during the cover of night, and plotting ways to get Delilah and Rose outside of the shield and to the CoG before time ran out.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Clarke finally took note of how she’d made her way towards the very back of the heavy book – almost to the back cover. The pages were whiter now, much more pliable, there were no jagged edges, and they turned with ease. She also recognized the names of the two girls and realized their ages in the book were about to align with the ages they’d been when Clarke and her people arrived.</p><p>She felt herself growing more eager with each page.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>7 years had come and gone since Cillian lost his family. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>7 years of the same old shit on a different day. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The anniversary of their passing came and went, and he spent the entire day mapping out different ways to get Delilah outside of the shield and to the CoG.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Naming Day was soon approaching, and the best way he felt he could honor his family was to make sure those bastards couldn’t resurrect yet another Prime again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their plans were getting bolder as the day approached, but they couldn’t seem to find a big enough distraction to get their hands on either girl – especially with both being heavily protected during the Red Sun’s sheltering period.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was starting to think there wouldn’t be a good enough distraction until they emerged over the last hill that led to the clearing of the quad. The quad that now held multiple strangers – <strong>outsiders </strong>– strewn about in a panic. Clearly they’d been victims of the Red Sun Toxin.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clearly they caught The Primes' full attention immediately.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bingo.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian instantly took note of the woman standing at the front. Her short blonde waves and startling blue eyes caught him off guard almost as much as her outfit did. He can’t remember ever seeing a woman wearing leather – much less leather that fit like <strong>that</strong>. </em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Clarke felt a strangled chuckle burst through at the description of herself.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>The woman had taken a defensive stance in an effort to show she was non-threatening, but her lack of movement didn’t last for long as rustling was heard behind her and she immediately jumped into action.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian stood back and waited for his cue but made an instant mental note of how the bold blonde begged for help in a manner that was more of a demand than it was a plea. The wooden sticks and imposing figure of Russell Lightbourne obviously had no effect on her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everyone’s hearts were racing as they took in the scene, but his was probably the only one hammering with excitement. He treated the man in question, noticed he didn’t have the blood, and then did what he did best over the last 7 years – lurked unnoticed to learn all that he could.</em>
</p><p><em>His excitement only grew and morphed into something else as he stood in the shadows of the tavern and listened to the same blonde, Clarke, inform The Primes that </em>their <em>people were in the wrong, </em>not <em>hers. </em></p><p><em>A warmth so long forgotten that it almost felt foreign bloomed across chest and tingled up his spine when he heard her refuse to bow as she used Russell’s name. She interrupted the insufferable Kaylee Prime, insisted her people would accompany theirs to the transport ship, and pointed out that </em>none <em>of her people were disposable as she was the first to volunteer herself for the journey.</em></p><p><em>He didn’t know exactly who this Clarke was, but he knew he instantly liked her. He also realized there was a genuine smile threatening to split his face in two. Something that hadn’t happened since before </em>that <em>day all those years ago.</em></p><p>
  <em>Cillian knew he had to be formally introduced to this woman, and quickly. He found himself almost <strong>hoping </strong>she had the blood, just so he could get her out of here before they ever had the chance to sink their claws into her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d spent his entire life around women who fell at the feet of The Primes, and the last 7 years had been spent trying desperately to conceal his ever-growing disgust for these sheep. Especially the ones who dared to think he’d ever entertain them after the loss of his wife.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke, however, intrigued him right away. He was quickly starting to feel something he briefly remembered as being a protective feeling towards her, and as concerning as that feeling was, he didn’t have time to dwell on why he may be feeling that way.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because not only did Clarke come with more people…she came with a child. A little girl. One she was willing to march straight into a new world full of unknown dangers and unpleasant strangers to go and get.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Clarke’s smile started to fade at the memory of her mother telling her that her daughter was stuck on a ship in uncharted territory. She had to fight her body’s natural urge to seize in panic at the very thought of Madi being in danger.</p><p>She closed her eyes for a moment and focused solely on the rapid beating of a little heart to allow a sense of calm to wash over her again. It’s not like she didn’t know how this story ended…it was just – different – to be hearing the details from this perspective.</p><p>Cillian heard and knew more than she’d ever realized.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Cillian had been called out of the tavern as the group departed for the shield. He had been afraid he wouldn’t have the chance to see Clarke again soon enough, but that all changed when he got an urgent call to meet Russell out in the fields later that same evening.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He actually forgot his hatred for the place when he learned who needed treatment.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He caught sight of her unmistakable blonde waves and that warmth from earlier started to creep up again before Russell’s voice rained down like a bucket of ice water. The next thing he noticed was the inky black liquid oozing from Clarke’s right hand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His breath hitched in his throat, but he knew nobody would notice with all the commotion surrounding them. His first instinct had been to grab the gauze and cover the substance while hoping Russell hadn’t caught a glimpse, but he had been the one to call him out to the fields, so he knew that hope was pointless.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Instead, he pointed out the obvious, and her snarky reply had that warmth spreading yet again as he wiped away the excess blood before slowly unraveling the gauze around her hand. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He froze when Clarke mentioned Russell’s daughter. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He could practically hear the wheels turning in the older man’s head in the brief, deafening silence that ensued before the man finally revealed the news of his daughter’s death.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cillian’s focus remained intently on Clarke’s reaction. He suddenly found himself acutely aware of the fact that she was probably thinking of the still-unknown fate of her own daughter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her daughter who now also held an even greater chance of having the blood. </em>
</p><p><em>He </em>really <em>needed to find out how many of them had it. Especially the little girl. He wouldn’t let the life of yet another child be taken by these false gods.</em></p><p>
  <em>He needed to get Clarke to hear him out. He needed her to trust him so that she’d actually listen and save herself, her daughter, and her people while she still could. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Once they returned to the tavern, Cillian clung to the shadows yet again as the blonde was gleefully reunited with an energetic little girl. A girl who looked to be around the same age that his third son would’ve been, had he survived. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He didn’t have to get a long glance to see the genetic markers – both physical and in the child’s personality. Her eyes were almost an even more startling shade of blue if that were even possible. She had her mother’s small, round face, lightly dimpled chin, similarly shaped little ears, the same wavy curl to her thick dark hair, the tiny button nose, an identical petite build, and an equally boisterous attitude to boot. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The features she shared with her mother would make them all the easier to sketch later in the night. He also noted how the child’s bubbly disposition was contagious – at least to him it seemed to be. His chest welled up and another grin split his face when he heard her enthusiasm and saw her exuberance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The same protective feeling he’d felt towards her mother earlier made its way to the front of his mind when he saw the girl take a step forward as the terrorist was being cast out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Relief instantly flooded through every fiber of his being as her mother instantly pulled her back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Royal” blood or not, he had to get Clarke and her daughter out of here. He needed to get Clarke alone and get her to listen.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Clarke’s jaw had dropped as the impact of what she’d just read truly registered in her mind. Cillian had seen the “genetic markers” right away. He’d seen the resemblance between Clarke and Madi right off the bat. Something Clarke hadn’t managed to see in 6 years with the little girl.</p><p>That thought alone ripped right through her chest.</p><p>She tried to reason with herself that Cillian hadn’t known that Madi had been “adopted.” Nobody from Sanctum had known.</p><p>But that didn’t stop her from blaming herself for failing not to see what had been so clearly evident to so many other people. She had to yet again swallow back the familiar feeling of having failed as a mother. Because what kind of mother didn’t recognize their own child? No matter how extenuating, and downright crazy, the circumstances may be.</p><p>She looked down at her bare, rounded abdomen and rubbed it apologetically while whispering a soft “I’m so sorry” for what was probably the thousandth time in a pregnancy that wasn’t even out of its first trimester yet.</p><p>She knew she had to shake herself of this guilt before the baby was born, and she was working on it. She really was. But reading something like this just reminded her of how blind she now felt she was for all those years.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Cillian had hatched a plan to get Clarke alone the next day. Plan A was to pull her aside to examine and treat her wounded hand. Plan B was to pull her aside at the Naming Day party before the ceremony and explain everything to her. To get her to grab her daughter and come with him through the shield – even if it cost him his life and her friends had to be left behind for the time being.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She and the little girl were his first priority. He told himself it was because she was the leader of her people and that would get the rest to follow, but the warm feeling and desperation that kept invading his chest and mind seemed to say otherwise. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d stayed up all night painstakingly sketching some of the people around her and x’ing out those he knew didn’t have the blood. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Plan A had failed, so it looked like he would have to get to her during the party. That would be the only other opportunity he’d have to get her alone where it was likely to go unnoticed and not arouse suspicion. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was just going to talk to her. He was going to be honest with her. Their encounter that morning had him feeling pretty confident that she’d listen to what he had to say. That she’d hear him out and trust him enough to grab her daughter and run away with him, as crazy as it all may seem.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’d become even more desperate to get her and the little girl out after getting the chance to actually interact with the child.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It turns out that she could be equally as headstrong and sneaky as her mother, which was no surprise to him. That became evident when he noticed her veer from the course in which she was supposed to head and follow his trail instead.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He scanned the area to see if anyone had caught on to what the child was doing or if anyone had noticed, but the tiny clear of a throat interrupted his task before it could be completed. He turned to see a small hand settled on a tilted hip as impossibly blue eyes looked up at him with all the smugness someone so young could muster.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her knowing smirk was so cute that he had to physically slide his hand over his mouth to conceal his amused smile as the child continued to eye him in what seemed to be an act of surveillance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’d better not hurt her, or you’ll have to answer to me,” was all the girl got to say before her teacher rushed over in a panic – rambling on and on about how she couldn’t just take off like that, especially to talk to a stranger, no less.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He couldn’t contain his laugh as the girl pointed to herself and said “Madi” before pointing to him and saying “Cillian” in a snarky attempt to prove that she was, in fact, <strong>not </strong>talking to a stranger. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His laughter died down as he watched the woman start to pull the child away. He caught the little girl giving one last look back at him, and he felt his eyes crinkle as he shot her a bright smile and called out “I promise!” across the space between them.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>I don’t know exactly how, I sure as hell don’t know exactly why, but what I do know is that I will save Clarke and her little girl somehow. I’ll get the two of them out of here and away from these lunatics and their sheep if it’s the last thing I do.</em> </strong>
</p><p>-</p><p>That was it. Those were the very last words in the last journal entry Cillian would ever make.</p><p>Fat tears splashed onto the blank white space beneath the final writing on the page. Cillian had not only interacted with her – <em>their </em>– daughter, but his first and last words to her were a promise. A promise that held more to it than the little girl could’ve possibly known.</p><p>A promise that brought back images of the man sliding a knife across his own throat while Clarke lay motionless as guards barge through the door.</p><p>Cillian had never intended to sleep with Clarke. He hadn’t been trying to seduce her for information. He had been trying to save her and <em>their </em>daughter. He’d just wanted to talk and for her to listen. She had been the one to turn and press the back of her body into the front of his.</p><p>She had been the one who made the first move and grabbed for the back of his head when she recognized the look of tenderness in his eyes that she met with a look of longing in her own. She guided his head down towards hers and tested the waters as she lightly pressed her lips against his.</p><p>He hadn’t fought her. Hadn’t pulled away in horror. When they did pull back from one another, his eyes searched hers in a way that reminded her of how Lexa’s did right before they made love to one another.</p><p>She recognized that look. She saw that he cared. That he felt the connection too. She also knew that he was <em>dangerously </em>hot, and she hadn’t kissed anyone like this in over 6 years.</p><p>But that had been out of force. He hadn’t been with anyone in an even longer period than that, by choice. After more than 7 years and a vow not to be with anyone after his wife, Clarke was the first and only woman he’d allowed himself to be with.</p><p>And that night just so happened to lead to the creation of her little girl – his <em>only </em>daughter. A little girl with nightblood after 7 boys who weren’t even so much as carriers.</p><p>The significance of that night had grown astronomically since Clarke learned it was Madi’s true beginning, but now it felt more than just significant.</p><p>It felt special.</p><p>She no longer felt betrayed by him that night. She no longer felt like it was just a means to an end for him as he phished for information. He hadn’t meant to sleep with her that night, and he wasn’t in the habit of just bedding numerous women like she’d initially feared.</p><p>She broke through a wall of his. She meant something to him. Their night together meant something to him.</p><p>Knowing that allowed her to look at Madi’s conception in a completely different way. In a way that filled her own chest with warmth and fondness that was no longer tainted with the lingering bitterness of feeling used.</p><p>She also realized that he stuck to his word. He died trying to get her and Madi away. He’d slit his own throat trying to do so.</p><p>One day their daughter would remember demanding a promise of her father, and it would be a promise Clarke could tell Madi he died keeping.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter we will explore some of Clarke's emotions and the fallout of what she's learned. It's about time we get a few Clarke-centric chapters, as she is the backbone of this story.</p><p>Who she turns to may surprise you yet.</p><p>I will update when my health allows. Sorry if I missed any comments on the last or any other chapters. I will try not to neglect any with this one. Thank you again to all of my wonderful readers and supporters!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. What It Means To Be Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clarke ends up with more than she bargained for in her quest to not be alone after the latest revelation.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*I do not own any of the lyrics used in this chapter. All rights to the song go to its creators.*</p><p>I spent countless hours going over this in my head. It's been rewritten more times than I can count. I wanted it to be as close to perfect as I had imagined it.</p><p>"The secret of change is to focus all of your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new." -Socrates</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The air in Medical feels more stale and suffocating the longer Clarke sits there with the weight of the book growing heavier in her lap. Suddenly being alone and her former need for privacy had the room feeling too quiet and her own thoughts screaming too loud.</p><p>With a hefty slam of the book, Clarke proceeds to remove the wand from her stomach and wipe the gel from both the device and her abdomen with all her usual care when it came to matters of her pregnancy. She’d never be in such a rush that she’d risk mishandling the tools needed to monitor her daughter.</p><p>She eases herself to a standing position as to avoid any dizziness and lightheaded spells she had been experiencing ever since the morning sickness kicked in about 3 weeks ago. Once she is sure that she is stable on her feet and her stomach isn’t churning, she heads for the door, turns down a few hallways, and heaves open the door of her room with an audible sigh to help wake Raven without startling her.</p><p>Sure, Clarke feels slightly guilty at awakening her friend in the middle of the night, but knowing the mechanic, she’d much rather be brought in on this "juicy gossip" than wasting her time doing something as trivial as <em>sleeping</em>.</p><p>Clarke looks towards the brunette’s bunk anticipating a groan from the woman only to be greeted with silence. She then notices the absence of candles burning and has to use the light illuminating from the hallway to catch a disheartening glimpse of Raven’s empty bed.</p><p>Clarke opens the door slightly wider and steps out of the doorway to allow as much light in as possible and get a better view of the area. On the pillow rests what appears to be a small scrap of paper.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>First of all, don’t panic. I haven’t been kidnapped, I am not under duress, nobody is hurt, and I am not being forced against my will to write this note.</em> </strong>
</p><p>Clarke feels her facial muscles tighten in agitation. Even her “brief” notes were dripping with the mechanic’s personality.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Anyway, I figured I’d leave this note in case you decided to come back. Echo and I have a fun little errand to run, so don’t wait up. And again, everything is okay. Seriously. Don’t go all “Clarke Griffin panic mode” on me. If you need anything, head to the boys’ room or press your button. There are strict orders for someone there to be on Clarke duty in my absence.</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>-The Godmother</em> </strong>
</p><p>Clarke wants to be annoyed at the whole “Clarke duty” thing, but she can’t help the ghost of a smile that spreads across her face at not only Raven’s never-ending concern, but her use of her new favorite nickname for herself. Multiple people had pointed out that Raven wasn’t the only woman becoming a godmother, but that didn’t stop her from taking out a monopoly on the term.</p><p>The fondness she feels for her friend outweighs her irritation over having a “babysitter” constantly in the vicinity. If she were being honest, she still wasn’t quite used to having so many people around at any given time. They were friends – her family, really – but the feeling was still so foreign after 6 years without another adult.</p><p>Putting all of that aside, she actually welcomes her friend’s thoroughness right in this moment. The last thing she wants is to be alone. Clarke pivots and lays the note down on her own bunk to convey to Raven that she’s seen it, should the brunette return before Clarke. With that, she is out the door and turning down hallways yet again until she reaches the room she knows is never empty.</p><p>The door was shut, which Clarke finds odd since it was usually left ajar due to the heavy flow of traffic to and from the area. She slowly undoes the latch only to be greeted by nothing but a soft blue glow and an all-too-familiar melody that sucks her right back into another lifetime.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke had all but collided with her bed once she and the fur-adorned, feather-filled mattress were reunited. She’d just spent the better part of two weeks venturing out back into the bleak, unforgiving desert with a 6-year-old who’d never left the confines of the plush valley.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke had waivered back and forth for months on how to get the rover back and what to do about Madi when the journey was made. She was plagued by a nightmare of the little girl dying of dehydration and drying up into nothing right before her eyes one night only to be haunted by images of the same child’s mangled remains being found after having been torn to shreds by a panther twice her size the very next night.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d told herself that Madi had survived for 63 days all on her own. She’d spent the last 6 months discovering which plants were safe for what purpose and drilling that knowledge into the kid along with practicing basic first aid techniques and smoking meats to leave for her so she wouldn’t have to hunt in Clarke’s absence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke knew the child would still hunt anyway. She also knew what the more rational decision was, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself around to the thought of parting with the girl. She’d rationalized that it was simply because Madi was the only other person she’d have for the next 5 years. That her mind and her heart clung to the tiny being purely out of her natural instinct to survive.</em>
</p><p><em>Clarke also knew all of that was bullshit, but she couldn’t manage to admit to herself the </em>real <em>reason why her chest clenched like her heart was in a vise grip whenever she so much as entertained the idea of being separated from Madi. Even if only for mere weeks. Weeks that would be nothing in the grand scheme of things.</em></p><p>
  <em>But Clarke knew how much could change in only a matter of weeks. Whole worlds could be lost forever in less than a day.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just when she was on the brink of abandoning the rover altogether, a tiny figure emerged from their modest home heaving the blonde’s life-size (for Madi) pack on her back with the child’s favorite blanket snaked over her small shoulders and curling around her neck.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Looking at Madi’s determined little face as she huffed and puffed her way towards her mentor was what Clarke imagined she must’ve looked like to her own mother when she was hellbent on defying the older woman and taking off on yet another dangerous rescue mission.</em>
</p><p><em>Clarke knew before Madi’s eyes even met her own that the little girl would be going with her. She also finally acknowledged to herself </em>exactly <em>why she’d rather rip her own heart from her chest than to leave Madi alone. It would be far less painful than possibly losing the girl.</em></p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p><em>Clarke has no idea what time it is and isn’t even oriented to </em>where <em>she is just yet when the noise drifts through her unconscious state and worms its way into her subconscious. </em></p><p>
  <strong> <em>“When there’s no one else in sight”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>She feels herself rousing from her deep sleep.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“In the crowded lonely night”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>She may or may not have groaned as she moves to roll over in her bed.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“Well I wait so long for my love vibration”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Her eyes finally crack open in protest at the persistent noise.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“And I’m dancing with myself, oh-oh”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>She definitely lets out a groan this time as she struggles to sit up in bed. Her first instinct is to look towards the window where the smaller bed lies.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“Dancing with myself, oh-oh”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Her stomach flips when her heart drops into it as she spots an empty bed and feels no warm bundle surrounding her in her own.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“Dancing with myself”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>And just like that, all pretenses of going back to sleep fall away as the fog instantly clears from her mind. She’s up and out the door before her furs even hit the floor.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“When there’s nothing to lose and there’s nothing to prove”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>The door slams as she barrels through it. Her eyes immediately find the object of their desire.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“Well I’m dancing with myself ah, oh, oh-oh”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>The sick feeling leaves and is replaced by something that has her heart skipping a beat for another reason as she watches little limbs flail about while tiny bare feet hop around in the dirt and a thick, dark mane whips about wildly with the movements.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“If I looked all over the world, and there’s every type of girl”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke’s own feet are stepping in time with the beat as she draws nearer to the girl. She recognizes the lyrics since it’s a song Madi played over and over again on their trip back home in the rover. It’d been the first time the kid ever heard music like that, and even though she couldn’t yet read, she quickly learned how to work Maya’s MP3 player to get to a song that she liked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This one was the only one played after she heard it for the first time.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“And there’s every type of girl”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke grabs for the girl’s hand and simply shakes her head wildly back and forth, causing Madi to laugh as blonde waves meet dark brown. The blonde’s voice falls in sync with the one blaring through the rover’s speakers.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“But your empty eyes seem to pass me by”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>She lifts Madi off of the ground from under the girl’s arms and spins her around as she continues wailing out the lyrics she’s memorized over the last few days.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>“Leave me dancing with myself”</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Madi continued the tradition of dancing to the song through the years when she managed to wake up before Clarke.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke never once complained. Never once told her to turn it off or even turn it down.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As Madi got older, the frequency of her rising before Clarke declined to the point where it was unlikely to happen at all.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until they’d reached a certain day marked on their makeshift calendar and the skies were as clear – and empty – as they usually were.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke went to bed early that night and stayed there for the next few days.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until another morning came where the seemingly lost melody played louder than ever.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clarke finally got out of bed, and she danced with her daughter like it was the first time all over again. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“So, you really do have a secret manual, huh? Who could’ve seen that one coming?”</p><p>Clarke jumps at the unwelcomed interruption of her trip down memory lane. Her eyes follow the sound of the voice only to land on a smirking John Murphy as he sits up in his mattress on the floor.</p><p>She feels her brow wrinkle in confusion only to look down when he nods once towards her chest.</p><p>The way she has her arms wrapped around the book made it so that only “Death” was visible on the cover. Clarke rolls her eyes after realizing what Murphy had meant.</p><p>She does a quick visual sweep of the room and discovers he’s the only person there. The only fully formed person who wasn’t floating in an incubator, that is.</p><p>“I guess this song is more of a testament to your mood rather than being a favorite. You manage to chase everyone away again?” Clarke shoots at him in a tone she reserves just for Murphy. Not unkind, but matching his snark blow for blow.</p><p>She quickly regrets using said tone as she watches his face fall at the implication.</p><p>“Murphy, I…”</p><p>He cuts her off. “Octavia and Levitt went to their room once she got back from the dinner.”</p><p>Clarke squints at him for just a second before nodding her head and sucking her bottom lip under her top front teeth. When Murphy was avoiding something, it was always made clear one way or another.</p><p>He yells out for the music to shut up, and it shuts off without another word. Raven was really <em>that </em>good, Clarke muses to herself.</p><p>“She came back in here all rushed and flustered. Said she had an idea and some people volunteered to run a supply errand for her. Then her and Levitt went back to their room for the night. Before you say anything, no, I was not rude, and I did not argue.” Murphy stands with a huff after he finishes his explanation and starts going about stacking two more surrounding mattresses on top of the one he’s been using.</p><p>Clarke watches his every move with a quirked eyebrow. “Was Emori one of those people?” she asks, testing the waters.</p><p>Murphy drops the third mattress on top with a grunt. “Are you going to sit down or not, Clarke? Raven would kill me if she found out I <em>dared </em>allow her unborn goddaughter to get so close to the cold, hard floor. Not to mention what Jackson would say if he saw his patient, who’s on <em>bedrest</em>, just standing around clutching a fancy cinderblock.”</p><p>Clarke mock-glares at the man before crossing the room to take a seat next to him. She also takes the opportunity to finally set the book down. She hadn’t realized how heavy it was until she felt the instant ache of her arms without its weight in them.</p><p>Clarke catches Murphy’s curious glance at the book, but the blonde wasn’t quite ready for <em>that </em>just yet. “Speaking of Jackson, where’d he run off to? Where’s Miller?” Clarke asks hurriedly before Murphy could question her.</p><p>“They decided to spend some <em>alone </em>time on the beach tonight.” Murphy sticks his tongue out and makes an exaggerated gagging noise until he sees the way Clarke seems to pale at the sound.</p><p><em>Right</em>, he remembers. Gagging sounds probably aren’t super helpful for pregnant women with morning sickness. <em>Way to go, Murphy</em>. At least he didn’t have to worry about that with his kid.</p><p>That was the one and <em>only</em> thing he didn’t have to worry about where his son was concerned, actually.</p><p>Clarke interrupts his thoughts this time before he can go down that rabbit hole again. “And Jordan and Hope? I know they’ve been pretty constant fixtures around here since the godparents were named,” Clarke comments. She knew nobody could match Raven’s enthusiasm over being a godparent, but those two damn sure tried to get close.</p><p>Murphy’s signature half-smirk quickly finds its way back where she was accustomed to seeing it. “Probably giving each other hands-on anatomy lessons, if I had to guess.” He winks at a clearly disgusted Clarke.</p><p>“Gross, Murphy,” Clarke groans. “I guess Octavia’s errand explains why Raven took off with Echo. I’m guessing Niylah is with them as well. She’s never one to miss out on any action going down.” Clarke’s eyebrows raise at her own understatement.</p><p>Murphy’s smirk drops just as quickly as it had returned. “So, what’s with the ancient paperweight over there?” He juts his chin towards her in an effort to gesture towards the book resting on the other side of her only to be met with silence.</p><p>“Death’s Diary and Tips? Did you just hollow it out and throw your own secret weapons in there? It’s definitely roomy enough for a couple of handguns, but you probably had to get creative with a lever…”</p><p>Murphy grunts as the air is forced from his diaphragm upon the impact of the weighty journal being slammed into his chest before he could utter another word.</p><p><em>Definitely </em>not hollowed out, he notes as he tries to catch his breath and look as unaffected by the action as possible. He more than deserved that, he had to admit.</p><p>He looks over to Clarke after a moment only to find her no longer sitting. Her back is to him and he can tell her arms are crossed from the way her elbows rest at an angle to either side of her. She’s standing right in front of his son’s tank – just watching.</p><p>Murphy drops his head and runs a frustrated hand up the back of his neck and through his hair. Clarke didn’t come here to be abused, and that wasn’t his intention. Somehow, she always seems to catch him at some of his worst moments.</p><p>He runs the same hand slowly down his face as he wonders what he should say next, or whether he should say anything at all.</p><p>His eyes fall on the book still resting in his lap, and he finally realizes what the full title is. He also notices something he hadn’t caught sight of before – there’s a section marked with paper towards the back of what he could only assume was some sort of bible for the CoG.</p><p>He spares one last glance at the back of Clarke’s unmoving form before curling his fingers against where the paper stuck out and prying the book open right to that page. It wasn’t just any piece of paper, as it turns out. It was several papers containing sketches.</p><p>Not Clarke’s sketches, he notes. At least he doesn’t think they are. He doesn’t recognize the woman or the baby in the drawings, and the paper looks too yellowed and worn to have been done any time recently.</p><p>At the very back of the papers is a small strip that he recognizes immediately. He’s only been shown the images about a hundred times now.</p><p>Clarke’s first sonogram images of Madi.</p><p>He takes the time to study the shape whose detail he’d long since memorized. He traces his forefinger around the blob one last time before gingerly setting the pictures aside and focusing his eyes on the handwriting at the top of the page. He starts from the very beginning.</p><p>-</p><p>Clarke hears the thud of the book followed by Murphy’s huff from the exertion of opening it. She hears the shuffling of papers behind her.</p><p>She reminds herself that Murphy turns to humor as his defense mechanism. Backhanded comments with more meaning and pain behind them that his sly grin tries not to give away, but she knows the whole song and dance.</p><p>Doesn’t make the words sting any less. It doesn’t keep the words from echoing in her mind when she should be sleeping. It doesn’t make taking the high road any easier. And it certainly doesn’t seem to allow her to be able to move past feeling like the bad guy after all.</p><p>She hears the flip of the first stiff page and wonders exactly how long she’s been standing here in total silence. Her initial intention had just been to shut Murphy up and hope he had enough sense to give her some space.</p><p>She hadn’t even realized what she’d been staring at all this time until she finally brought her eyes back into focus.</p><p><strong>Blake Alexander Murphy </strong>still scrolls across the bar at the bottom of the screen. All the babies had their full names at the very bottom. A little heart still flashes blue in time with the baby’s own heartbeat. All of his vitals are blue, and that means all is calm.</p><p>For now.</p><p>Her gaze drifts up towards the being floating before her. At 13 weeks gestation, all three boys had officially made it into what was considered the second trimester. Their little heads had taken shape and their various limbs and facial features had become more identifiable through the viscous fluid. Their legs looked more like legs and less like tails and they had fingers that no longer appeared to be webbed.</p><p>The more the boys developed, the more evident Bam Bam’s differences became. They’d already identified the severity of the cleft palate and lip, but there was a staggering difference between identifying it and actually watching it progress right before your very eyes.</p><p>It served as a reminder of all the trials to come. There was this constant underlying fear about what would happen once he was out of the safety of the regulated incubator and delivered into a world where even the most advanced care they could offer would still be brutal on such a tiny body just starting out in life.</p><p>Clarke had spent countless hours reading, studying, and planning for different scenarios she would run in her head. Some nights it seemed to be all she could think about. Raven had to pry her away from her own thoughts on more than one occasion for her own health and wellbeing.</p><p>But right now, all Clarke sees as she looks at Bam is the mental image of a heartbroken Cillian burying his third, fourth, and fifth sons. They had all been around this stage of development when Sarah-Jo miscarried.</p><p>Clarke draws in a sharp breath and quickly tries to cover it with a cough. Hot tears are already starting to pool as she tries to remind herself to just breathe. She untangles her tightly wound arms to allow them their freedom to cover the slight swell of her lower midsection.</p><p>Seeing Bam Bam now really put things into perspective for her, and the sight of him just let her imagination run wild in the darkest of ways.</p><p>Six times. Cillian went through that <em>six times. </em>When he was finally rewarded with a healthy, living child, he was stripped of everything before the newborn even had a chance to have his first bath.</p><p>One tear escaped as another quickly follows. Clarke wipes them away without a second thought. Wiping away tears was a skill she’d developed quite well over the years – especially over the last few months.</p><p>But these tears were <em>nothing </em>compared to the tears shed over the loss of a child. Those were tears of a different breed. They didn’t just sting – they <em>burned</em>. They didn’t just flow – they <em>poured</em>. They didn’t just dampen your face and shirt – they <em>drenched </em>everything. They didn’t just cause you to sniffle – they <em>choked </em>you.</p><p>You didn’t just cry – you <em>wailed</em>. You screamed and moaned and cried out like you never had before. It was unlike anything else you’ve ever felt or even witnessed.</p><p>It was an all-encompassing feeling that went beyond grief. It was like your very soul was leaving your body with every sob.</p><p>And he felt that <em>seven </em>times.</p><p>Only to end his own life before he ever knew that he had another chance coming.</p><p>A chance that would’ve added more pages to his own story as they intertwined with what will be added to Madi’s book. Pages that followed the discovery of her existence, her parentage, her gender, her heartbeat – everything from first movements to first kicks to her arrival back into this world from the very beginning this time.</p><p>And there’s something so depressing about that to Clarke – something so inherently devastating – because if anyone deserved this chance, it was him.</p><p>Definitely more so than her, or so she thought.</p><p>-</p><p>Clarke was studying Bam’s file to pull herself out of those thoughts when an audible <em>slam </em>from behind her caused her to jump.</p><p>She turns, slowly, of course, to find Murphy slumped over the book. Eventually her now-dry eyes meet the red-rimmed lids of his own. The blue is even more brilliant as they shimmer with unshed tears.</p><p>What she doesn’t expect is his laughter that follows. A dark laugh that is devoid of all humor. It chills her to the bone.</p><p>Murphy just shakes his head as he tosses the book on the bed behind him. “The universe, fate, whatever the fuck you wanna call all of this,” he waves his hands in front of him to gesture around the room, “is even more cruel and unfair then even <em>I </em>thought possible.”</p><p>Clarke takes a few tentative steps forward until she’s able to lower herself back down on the mattress next to him. They just sit there in silence for a few minutes. Murphy keeps shaking his head and Clarke’s eyes fall out of focus as she’s pulled back into her own thoughts.</p><p>Murphy can’t take the silence anymore.</p><p>“Here you have two people who wanted a kid more than <em>anything </em>– who deserved it more than <em>anyone </em>– and they both die childless and alone after everything,” he chokes. He swallows against the lump in his throat to continue.</p><p>“And then you have people who were fucking <em>gifted </em>a child after never having discussed it. The thought hadn’t even crossed our minds until we were left with a choice,” Murphy’s voice cracks on that last word that seems to be said all too often in their world.</p><p>Clarke lifts her head to focus her gaze on Murphy. Her own face crumples at the lost look on his.</p><p>“Murphy…” she tries only to be shut down.</p><p>“Here my kid is with a father who secretly throws himself little fucking pity parties over how much harder shit is gonna be once he’s actually here. Meanwhile, a guy like that,” Murphy jams a thumb back over his shoulder in the direction of the book, “would give <em>anything </em>to have been in the position that I’m in. He would move fucking <em>mountains </em>just to keep this boy safe and alive,” Murphy finishes breathlessly. He’s not sure if his head is still shaking or it’s just his entire body at this point.</p><p>“Murphy, please…” Clarke tries again helplessly only to realize her friend isn’t finished.</p><p>He sucks in a quick breath. “Not to mention fucking Super Mom back there.” He jerks his head backwards to leave no doubt as to whom he is referring. “All the radiation in the world wouldn’t stop her from being here if this were her son we were talking about.” Murphy’s bitterness seeps out more and more with every word.</p><p>“But it’s not, Murphy,” Clarke tries in a whisper.</p><p>He lowers his own voice to a whisper that matches hers. “Which is exactly why my son’s mom isn’t here,” he finally admits.</p><p>Clarke chooses to remain silent this time. The worry lines in her forehead feel deep enough to crack, but she knows Murphy’s about to break, and she needs to let him.</p><p>He lowers his head into his hands as his elbows dig into his knees.</p><p>“We had 5 years home-free, Clarke,” he says shakily. “5 years of recycled urine, green algae, and a rotating chore system, but it was 5 years where, for once, we weren’t running from anything or anyone. We were safe, and there was a certain peace to that feeling that I wanted to hold on to.”</p><p>Clarke releases her grip on the mattress’ edge and settles her hands in her lap as she listens. She knows the feeling he’s talking about. She had that with Madi in the valley. Up until now, it was as close to peace as she’d come since childhood.</p><p>Murphy withdraws his head from his hands before he drops them and stares straight ahead at nothing in particular.</p><p>“I just wanted to focus on being with her. Just for a while. I thought everything else could wait. But she disagreed. She started becoming interested in all of the tech on the ship, and I understood that. I mean, ‘Grounders in space’ and all…so I was in full support of her training with Raven and being her sidekick or whatever. It made Emori feel needed and important to someone other than me.”</p><p>He takes a breath before continuing. “But gradually she’d be around less and less, and when she <em>was</em> around all she could talk about was how we were going to solve the problem of getting back to Earth. At one point I asked her if we could just enjoy what we had while we had it. Her confusion led to frustration, which led to my anger, which is how I ended up labeled as the selfish prick.”</p><p>Murphy almost chuckles at the irony of it all. He’s moving past the stage of sadness and back into a territory full of anger and resentment.</p><p>“She rode the high of breaking into Eligius’ files and she’s still trying to ride that high of having been the one to uncover the Kane-Octavia thing. That’s why she invited herself to that dinner. That’s why she’s out right now on some wild goose chase for Octavia. Raven, Echo, and Niylah took off after her to ‘assist’,” he finishes with air quotes around the last word.</p><p>Clarke’s head nearly spins as she tries to choose her next words carefully. “It’s only been three weeks, Murphy. What makes you think this time is anything like the last?” she questions.</p><p>Murphy throws his head back towards the ceiling and rolls it around a few times in an effort to stretch out his neck a bit. Who knew bunk mattresses, shitty posture, and emotional trauma could take such a physical toll on someone who’s only 25?</p><p>“Because history’s already begun to repeat itself,” he mutters before diving headfirst into what happened only the night before.</p><p>-</p><p>“So, as you can see, it’s looking more and more like I’m in this alone,” Murphy laments as he finishes his recap of last night’s events.</p><p>Clarke’s scoff from beside him causes his head to snap in her direction for the first time since he started the story.</p><p>He glares at her blonde waves whipping around as she shakes her head. An incredulous smile spreads across her face when she responds.</p><p>“This, right here,” her arms fly aimlessly around them, “is anything <em>but </em>alone, Murphy,” she begins.</p><p>His glare fades into confusion before she continues.</p><p>“Being alone – <em>truly </em>alone – is spending 63 days believing that you’re the only person left on the face of the Earth. Being alone is talking into some piece of shit radio every day even though you don’t get any response. Being alone is holding a gun to your own head after spending months trying to survive because surviving doesn’t seem worth it after you realize you’ve lost everything.”</p><p>Clarke doesn’t even register how ragged her breathing has become. She’s not even sure if Murphy’s listening, but she can’t stop now.</p><p>“Being <em>truly </em>on your own as a parent is raising a child when you’re the only adult left on the face of the planet. A child who you thought you were saving in the beginning only to realize she was the one saving you all along. To be alone is to be surrounded by familiar faces that now belong to strangers as everyone tries to send the one person you cling to – your very reason for living – off to die in a war that never should’ve been hers to fight.”</p><p>Clarke doesn’t realize how her vision swims or how the tears fall steadily from her chin into her lap. She doesn’t pay attention to how silent the person next to her has grown. She’s not done yet.</p><p>“Being alone is sacrificing everything – even your own life – only to watch yourself <em>still</em> become the villain in the eyes of everyone you once cared about. All because you finally have something, <em>someone</em>, you’re not willing to sacrifice for people who'd long since written you off as dead,” Clarke chokes out in a hoarse whisper.</p><p>She takes a deep breath in through her nose and exhales slowly out of her mouth as she forces her eyes shut.</p><p>It’s not until then that she realizes how much she’s shaking, and before she knows it, she’s falling forward off the mattress and a collision with the unforgiving concrete floor seems imminent.</p><p>She braces herself for impact just as she feels something grab hold of her and lower her to the floor. The same arms that kept her from falling remain firmly in place around her as the sobs wrack her body.</p><p>“I got ya. It’s okay, Clarke. I’ve got you,” Murphy murmurs into the top of her head while his own tears streak down into her blonde hair. He realizes the danger has passed, but he doesn’t let go.</p><p>“You’re not alone, Murphy,” she cries out. “I know I’ve left you alone before – we all have, but we were wrong. <em>I </em>was wrong…about so many things.” She gasps for air and feels her body swaying from side to side.</p><p>“You’re not the bad guy, Clarke. You never were.” He doesn’t even realize that he’s started rocking them both.</p><p>“It took me being left on a planet where everyone was at each other’s throats and looking to me for the answers to finally admit just how much we all needed you. How much I relied on you to be the one to fix everything.” The words pour from his lips without even thinking. It’s like a dam finally breaks and it’s all flooding out at once.</p><p>“We’re not leaving you behind, Murphy,” Clarke utters weakly from where her head is tucked under his chin.</p><p>“Ditto, Griffin. Never again,” he swears. There was a lot that he was uncertain of right now, but there were two things he now understood: his son was his first priority, and the actions of Clarke Griffin.  </p><p>They were more alike than he’d been willing to acknowledge before, and cockroaches had to stick together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter we'll catch up with the four-some on their mission to fulfill Octavia's request. We may also have the gaps filled in of exactly what went down the night before that dinner.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. The Road Less Traveled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Emori receives something she didn't think would be possible.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Unedited for the moment.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Murphy stares intently at the face he knew so well. By no means was he an artist, but he could replicate the intricate patterns inked onto her skin without a second thought. Right now, he found it hard to believe her face was the last thing he wanted to see before he faced death mere months ago in Emori’s mindspace. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s seated on a bunk at the opposite corner of the room. The irony of their physical distance isn’t lost on him. He scoffs at the thought, and the disturbance is enough to break her silence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m going tonight, John, and I think you should too. It wouldn’t kill you to spend a night away from the baby, you know. It’s not like he’ll be alone…”</em>
</p><p><em>The use of “the baby” slashes through Murphy’s thoughts like a machete tears through thicket. She hasn’t referred to their son by name </em>or <em>nickname for over a week now – yet another little detail that hasn’t escaped his attention. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Not that you would know if he were.” Murphy tosses the line out as if he’s just casually interjected in someone else’s conversation. He doesn’t bother to meet her eyes this time as they are about to go yet another round.</em>
</p><p><em>And </em>not <em>the kind of round he found so satisfying. </em>That <em>type of round hadn’t occurred in over a month now. They’d been back from the Sanctum trip for three weeks, and he had pulled his disappearing act the week before that.</em></p><p>
  <em>Emori’s head snaps up towards his at the slight. She knows he’s tired of the back and forth, and she knows that is one feeling they have in common. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Going to a dinner for an evening isn’t abandoning my son, John,” she carefully comments between grit teeth. </em>
</p><p><em>Murphy lets his head fall back against the wall behind him. “It does when it’s the latest addition to an ever-growing list of absences, Emori,” he states calmly. “What is it you even hope to achieve here, huh?” he asks. He meets her eyes in a silent plea for her to say something, </em>anything<em>, to help him make sense of all this.</em></p><p>
  <em>She couldn’t exactly use the whole “you took off for a week” thing against him again. That didn’t get her anywhere in last week’s argument. The truth was she was tired of looking for an excuse. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Believe it or not, I want to achieve something more, John.” She watches the shift in his expression as he sits up straighter in his bunk.</em>
</p><p><em>“More than what, Emori? Making sure <strong>our</strong> son is safe? Keeping him healthy and being a happy family?” Murphy says accusatorily. He can’t for the life of him understand what is going on in her brain. This had been </em>her<em> idea. He thought this was what she wanted. </em></p><p>
  <em>It’s led him to finally realize it’s what <strong>he </strong>wants, and that makes her next words even harder to process.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“When I went through the stone and entered that ship, I felt more alive than I had since the day we came back to Earth. Just having a mission to accomplish in and of itself was exhilarating. Being behind those monitors, hacking into those files, uncovering a life-changing secret – it was beyond exciting. It was like getting a piece of myself back that I never knew realized was missing,” Emori paces as she explains.</em>
</p><p><em>Murphy can’t help but to stare in disbelief. “So because we’re not running for our lives or accidentally falling into being the leaders of a group of religious fanatics life isn’t </em>exciting <em>enough anymore?” he asks incredulously. “We’re going to be <strong>parents</strong>, Emori. Is that not enough excitement for you?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“I don’t want the rest of my life to look like this, John!” Emori snaps before quickly covering her mouth with her right hand. She hadn’t meant for it to come out like that.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But it was the harsh reality of her newfound truth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Murphy just sits there, dumbfounded. He isn’t angry. He isn’t devastated. He’s just…well, he doesn’t know what he is. His mind is spinning too rapidly for it to settle on any one emotion.</em>
</p><p><em>Emori’s voice softens when she sees he’s unresponsive. “There’s a whole universe out there, John. There’s different technology, climates, vegetation, and signs of life we never could’ve even fathomed existed. There are whole planets, entire </em>galaxies <em>out there containing God only knows what! I mean, what if we’re not actually the last living beings in existence? We may be the last of humanity, but clearly there’s more…”</em></p><p>
  <em>“So you want to go on planet hopping adventures and explore the universe? Great. Cool. I’m down. But we have to think of our son’s needs first. We don’t know when he’s going to be ready for that type of travel, much less how the time dilation will affect his ability to grow up with the other kids,” Murphy interjects.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He wouldn’t be coming with me, John, and neither would you,” Emori whispers as her gaze drops to the ground.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No no no no no. This can’t be happening. She can’t do this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Our son is sick, John, and who knows what else is out there that could help him? There could be endless resources that would help - ”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Cut the bullshit, Emori. Just come out and say it. You’re leaving him. You’re leaving <strong>us</strong>.” Murphy may hardly be able to think straight at this point, but he can damn sure still manage to see where this is heading.</em>
</p><p><em>Emori shakes her head vigorously. “I’m not leaving him, John. I’m still going to be his mother. I’m also going to do something more – </em>be <em>something more than </em>just<em> his mother. That void that I’ve felt for as long as I can remember – I’ve finally figured it out, John. It’s greater than one singular role. It’s being the one to make the hard choices. It’s doing something that serves a greater purpose,” Emori rushes to explain.</em></p><p>
  <em>She knows it won’t make sense to him. Hell, it doesn’t make total sense to her. But she now knows it’s what she’s been looking for. She hasn’t been chasing a rush all this time. She’d been thrown out as a baby because they didn’t think she could possibly serve any useful purpose. She’s spent her life trying to prove that wrong, and she needed John, she needed all of them, to finally see exactly how impactful her existence could be.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Murphy’s venomous voice cuts right through her thoughts. “I noticed you didn’t mention me in your little ‘spiritual awakening’ speech there,” he mocks. “I got the whole part about your plan to be a part-time mom or whatever, but I didn’t see where you fit me into this new equation of yours.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The way she continues to avert her eyes tells him everything he needs to know.</em>
</p><p><em>“Because I don’t,” he sneers. “You’re leaving Blake part-time, but you’re leaving </em>me <em>for good.” Murphy shakes his head in disbelief for what has to be the tenth time this evening.</em></p><p>
  <em>“<strong>You </strong>were the one who kissed me in that dessert, Emori. <strong>You </strong>were the one who got out of the rover and stranded yourself with me in Shallow Valley…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry, okay!” Emori blurts out as she begins to pace again. “You’d just saved my life and you kept saving it after that when you didn’t have to. Nobody had ever done that for me before. You were the one who helped me realize I was worth saving,” Emori’s tone begs him to understand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Part of me will always love you for what you’ve done for me, John. For what you’ve given me. You’re the reason I believe I can achieve great things. You’re the one who believed in me when I couldn’t believe in myself.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So I’m the reason you’re leaving me?” Murphy scoffs. “We spend all this time trying not to die, do a couple of good deeds along the way, and now, what, you’re ready to level-up? Well, I’m glad you got some use out of me as your stepping-stone. That makes one of us who’s gotten something other than a blow to the chest out of this.” Murphy gestures between the two of them in all his devastation and anger.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t expect you to understand or to believe me, but I really am sorry, John, and I am truly grateful for the time we’ve spent together. We just want different things now,” Emori tries gently.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But all the gentleness in the world can’t calm John Murphy right now. “We? Nobody ever asked me what <strong>I </strong>wanted, Emori. <strong>You </strong>made that call when you signed us up for parenthood. Here I thought we were on the same page and actually started to allow myself to want something again. I wanted <strong>you</strong>, and if a baby came with that then so be it. Now that I’m attached to him, I want him. I want him to have a family. I was stupid enough to allow myself to think I could give my son what I’ve been missing since the day my father was arrested.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s all hitting at once. The rage, the confusion, the disbelief, the heartbreak…</em>
</p><p><em>There was a knock at their door. Well, </em>her <em>door now. He didn’t know how that would work. </em></p><p>
  <em>But it’s time for the dinner. Time for her to go.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She keeps her eyes glued to the floor as she scurries around him and out the door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He feels like he’s in a daze. Like he’s entered some simulation featuring his worst nightmare. It just doesn’t feel real.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He turns and heads out the door the woman he’d thought he’d spend the rest of his life with had exited through only moments ago.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Murphy deftly makes all the correct turns as he navigates the halls he’s traveled countless times. It’s a journey that’ll lead him to the one thing he knows is still very real. The one thing he knows will keep him going through it all. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Murphy doesn’t even register Levitt’s bright greeting when he enters the room. He just makes his way over to where his son floats peacefully in his incubator. He drops down to the bunk on the floor with a groan and closes his eyes as Blake’s heartbeat greets his ears. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He cracks one eye open when he feels a hand on his left shoulder and immediately recognizes the tanned, calloused hand of Echo. She gives his shoulder a squeeze right before he clutches her hand beneath his and doesn’t let go.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Emori is a woman on a mission as she rips through the forest looking for any telltale signs of Hemp or Flax plants in the area. It’s not exactly what she had in mind when she asked Octavia if the other woman needed anything, but it was the only response the other brunette gave before corralling Levitt into their room and shutting the door.</p><p>The dinner went better than she’d expected. She didn’t exactly have an opportunity to contribute anything to the affair, but it served as a much-needed distraction after her encounter with John.</p><p>She’d hoped this would be an even better distraction seeing as she actually had a goal <em>and</em> a partner. They never traveled alone in the dark. It was a good policy, and one she had no intention of breaking anytime soon.</p><p>Her partner has been uncharacteristically quiet up until now. Emori still isn’t sure if the silence is welcoming or maddening. Luckily, she doesn’t have much longer to ponder her feelings on the matter.</p><p>Niylah’s gentle graze of her hand stops Emori in her tracks. The blonde gives a nod to her left. “Redcurrants. If I’m right about what Octavia has in mind for these plants, redcurrants will make a nice dye for the material,” she explains.</p><p>“Material?” Emori asks.</p><p>Niylah shoots her a gentle smile as she elaborates. “Octavia’s mother was a seamstress. Octavia has some serious sewing skills herself. I got to witness them firsthand some years ago, and we’re going to need plenty of clothing going forward – especially with Clarke starting to show. Something I’m sure Octavia noticed at tonight’s gathering.”</p><p>Niylah’s voice is smooth and husky all at the same time, and Emori can’t help but to wonder if the woman carefully crafted her ‘mysterious’ image or if she naturally just fell into it like slipping on a tailor-made glove.</p><p>Regardless, Emori is impressed. “I knew I asked you to accompany me for a reason,” she jokes with a tilt to her brow.</p><p>Niylah’s smirk matches the brunette’s as they both kneel to gather some berries. “You picked me because you’re avoiding your friends,” she states with unwavering confidence.</p><p>Emori’s jaw drops at the same time the basket slips from her hand. She can’t even begin to play off her shock as her breath quickens and her eyes dart towards nothing particular in the forest.</p><p>Niylah’s smirk gives way to a sympathetic smile. She knows all too well how the other woman’s feeling.</p><p>“You know,” she begins in a gentle voice, “I grew up in the woods out in the middle of nowhere. Just like this,” her arms sweep around her in a gesture to their current location. “My parents were warriors – one Trikru, the other Azgedan.”</p><p>If Emori is shocked by that little admission, she doesn’t let it show.</p><p>“My mother was taken by The Mountain when I was still relatively young, but both of my parents had always encouraged me to settle down one day and find a man – regardless of clan. They’d told me that it may not be easy or widely accepted, but that pursuing what felt right would ultimately benefit me in the end.”</p><p>Niylah’s smile turns sad and her eyes drift out of focus as she drops into a seated position and wraps both arms around her bent knees.</p><p>“Being a warrior, my father wasn’t around much given that we never really seemed to find peace that lasted. But when he was around, he’d tell every male customer, and we welcomed customers from all clans, about my abilities to dry meat and make leather and use every last part of an animal in addition to being able to keep a home, cook a mean meal, and tend to a wound or two.”</p><p>“I had my pick of male suitors during those years. Some men were intimidated by my independence and self-sufficiency, but there were plenty who thought I’d make a great mother for their sons and easy enough on the eyes to make a fine wife,” Niylah reminisces.</p><p>“It was my 21<sup>st</sup> summer when my father finally started to show signs of frustration over my not being wed. That was the summer she walked in. Fiery red hair so bright that it almost looked orange in the light. She came in every day for 8 days – always needing something small and always making my heart beat faster with every visit,” the blonde recounts with whimsy in her voice.</p><p>Emori’s breathing finally settles as she becomes more engrossed in the other woman’s story.</p><p>“It was on the 9<sup>th</sup> day that I finally made my move. I’d offered to braid a section of her hair for her. One section right off to the side that would really frame her face. Once I was finished, she held up a wildflower she’d picked earlier and asked me if I’d put it in her hair. I brushed some strands aside and placed it where the weight of the plait would hold it steady. She looked at me with the brightest smile I’d ever seen, and that’s when I put my hand on my cheek and leaned in.”</p><p>Emori isn’t sure what in the hell prompted the blonde to tell a love story right now of all times, but she’s invested anyway. That much is obvious as she leans forward and tilts her head ever so slightly in a display of sheer curiosity.</p><p>“My lips crashed into hers and it was like I melted into her. It was the most alive I’d ever felt up until that point.”</p><p>Niylah’s tone drops significantly, and Emori immediately picks up on the somber shift.</p><p>“And when I pulled away, she backhanded me so hard I was afraid my own braid had come undone,” the Trikru woman sighs heavily as she mindlessly plays with the braid now resting on her shoulder.</p><p>Definitely not what Emori had been expecting.</p><p>“Then she proceeded to tell my father and her entire village what I’d done. Eventually word got around amongst the clans and our shop suddenly became a place where only the exiled dared to step foot.”</p><p>Emori catches the way Niylah’s eyes cast downward in an uncharacteristic display of what she thinks may be shame.</p><p>“We were pariahs, my father and I, but that didn’t stop them from calling him off to fight in their battles. It also didn’t stop him from dropping everything each and every time they called. He and I never spoke of what happened, but he never again praised me for my various skills and abilities. Things were never quite the same after that.”</p><p>Niylah once again manages to surprise Emori as the blonde’s head whips up and hazel eyes lock in on the brunette’s brown.</p><p>“We lived like that for years. I worked tirelessly to try and supplant the goods we used to get through trade. I was racked with guilt for so long. Then, out of the blue, Indra walks through our door and announces the Commander’s presence. She announced that they intended to stay for a few days and that they’d be setting up camp to rest before resuming their journey to visit another clan.”</p><p>“The Commander herself, only around 17-years-old at the time, sauntered through the doorway with all the grace, and guards, expected of someone in her position. The Ambassadors were quick to file in right after as Heda beckoned an unseen person to come forward.”</p><p>The skin beside Niylah’s eyes crinkles as her entire face cracks open into the widest smile Emori has ever seen the woman wear.</p><p>“Before anyone knew it, this stunning young woman with stark black hair that appeared like it was made of pure silk, skin the shade of an olive tree, and eyes so dark they resembled the marbles we used as eyes for the dolls we made as children’s toys stepped up and grabbed the outstretched hand of the Commander. Nobody dared say a word as the two young women locked eyes and hands as they smiled at one another like nobody else was in the room.”</p><p>Emori doesn’t need to hear the commander’s name. She doesn’t need to know the name of the young woman who was with Heda. Even rogue throwaways like herself heard the stories of the popular commander and her lady love. Costia was a name that Azgeda’s queen made sure everyone knew but nobody dared to speak.</p><p>The blonde’s eyes hold nothing but pride when Emori meets them again.</p><p>“Heda eventually tore her gaze from her young love, looked directly at me, and announced that our humble little trade post was the chosen post of the Commander. When questioned about the declaration by Titus, her seda at the time, Heda simply said that the post was ran by an exemplary Trikru woman who’d served as an inspiration for youths everywhere.”</p><p>Niylah’s voice breaks as her story concludes. “Lexa never broke eye contact with me during her speech. She made sure I knew just how deep her words ran. Our post thrived after that, and my father eventually complimented me on how well I ran things. That was right before he left to go die at the hands of Bellamy and Charles Pike,” she finishes with a sneer.</p><p>Emori flinches at the reminder of Bellamy’s part in the slaughter of Trikru’s army. She’d forgotten that not everyone saw her departed friend in the same light that she does.</p><p>She sees Niylah wipe away a quick tear that had managed to escape and can’t help but feel for her. She knows what it’s like to be an outcast. She also knows how it feels to be a hero. Clearly she has more in common with this woman than she ever could have guessed.</p><p>Emori is about to resume collecting berries in an effort to give the blonde a bit of privacy, but it turns out the other woman wasn’t finished after all.</p><p>Niylah is once again kneeling when her hands join Emori’s in search of berries ripe enough to pick. “Don’t be afraid to live your truth, no matter how unpopular it may seem. Own who you are and what you want from life. Things have a way of paying off in the end,” she states without stopping her task.</p><p>Emori stutters in her search for just a moment. She has no idea exactly who this mysterious woman is or how she seems to sense what’s needed, but she doesn’t care.</p><p>One person’s seal of approval is one more than she expected to get.</p><p>
  
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Apologies again for the delay. I'm really trying to crank out the best product that I can from what I have envisioned, and I'm working to power through everything else happening to deliver just that. I really want to flesh out certain characters and give them something they desperately needed - more backstory. </p><p>I hope at least some of you are still with me. Feel free to let me know - even if it's just to tell me you hate where I'm going with this. Lol. I know the implications Jason left us with, but I can't write what I'm not feeling. So yes, the changes you think may be coming most likely are. There are certain characters and pairings who are easier, more natural, and much more enjoyable for me to write. I will leave you with that.</p><p>As always, love to all. You're all the best! Next chapter we will see what Raven and Echo are up to, so stay tuned.</p>
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